


Not Another Gay Figure Skater: Thailand's Future

by verydryzen



Series: Not Another Gay Figure Skater [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, M/M, Magical Realism, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:58:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verydryzen/pseuds/verydryzen
Summary: After helping Victor and Yuuri in their relationship, the unlikely duo of a perky Phichit with issues and Christophe the playboy become friends and work on an ice show.





	1. Chapter 1

**A Few Years Ago, University Dorm, Detroit**

 

Phichit and Yuuri are sitting together on Yuuri's bed, watching _The King and the Skater_ distractedly, since they've already seen it a dozen times. Phichit is playing with his hamsters, one on his head, one on his shoulder, and holding the third in his left hand.

“These creatures are so cute! The only way they'd be cuter is if they could wear skates. Can you imagine hamsters with little costumes, skating around…” marvels Phichit.

“You would have to film them, they would be hard to see from the bleachers,” advises Yuuri, smiling.

“Shall we skate!” sings Phichit to his hamsters. “Yuuri, take a picture, please!”

Yuuri picks up Phichit's phone, and takes a few photos. Phichit proclaims,

“The best things in life: friends, ice-skating, and hamsters!”

 

**December, Grand Prix Final, Barcelona, Spain**

 

At the Grand Prix banquet, Phichit roams around the room, talking with many people, but really hoping to catch some time with Yuuri. However, Victor and Yuuri have been glued together all night, and are now slow dancing on the dance floor. Phichit sees Christophe, and makes a beeline to him.

“Hello! We've talked on the phone a few times. I'm Phichit,” he introduces himself.

“Christophe Giacometti, yes, I remember, Katsuki's friend.”

“Our two lovebirds have finally resolved their differences.”

Christophe nods, and looks over at Phichit.

“Are you disappointed you didn't win a medal?”

“A bit. Sending me those Sochi banquet photos would make me feel better…” responds Phichit with a wink.

A tall brown haired man in a suit comes over, and takes Christophe's hand. “Christo, let's dance.” Christophe leaves and Phichit spots his family, standing together in one corner. Phichit grins, waves, and heads over. He excitedly chats with his sister, while his brothers steal little cakes from the buffet.

 

**2 years later, December, Honolulu**

 

Victor and Yuuri have just pronounced their wedding vows, and Yuuri turns around, and throws his bouquet straight to Phichit. Phichit squeals and smiles, and does a little dance of happiness. Victor looks around and sees Plisetsky sitting on a chair texting. He throws his bouquet into his lap. Plisetsky looks up startled, then annoyed. A waltz begins to play, and Victor and Yuuri dance, completely entranced with each other, glowing. Phichit looks at them enviously. Christophe comes over, and offers his hand, and they begin to dance as well. Phichit makes a big show of looking coyly at his partner, and running his hands down his arms. Mari grabs Plisetsky's arm, and forces him to dance with her, which he does grudgingly. After a few dances, Phichit and Christophe grab drinks and sit down.

“How does it feel to lose your best friend?” quizzes Phichit.

“I'm used to being ignored for Victor's love interests. But you're a bit more despondent, no?”

“I'm deliriously happy for him, but I miss having him all to myself,” admits Phichit.

Phichit takes another sip of his fruity drink, and goes round the room chatting with everyone. Then he stops where Christophe is sitting, and sits on his lap. Christophe looks surprised, and whispers loudly in Phichit ear,

“Why are you flirting with me? You're not flirting with anyone else.”

“Besides being the sexiest man alive?” quips Phichit.

“Yes, besides that,” smiles Christophe.

“I like to play with fire. And I was hoping that the famous playboy would flirt with me and make me feel attractive.”

“You feel unattractive?”

“I'm considered cute, peppy, friend material – not lover material. Most of my fans are prepubescent girls who like _Hello Pussy,_ ” Phichit pouts.

Christophe looks pensive.

“See! You agree with me,” whines Phichit, narrowing his eyes.

“You have excellent social skills, and you like being bright and effervescent. Therefore, you are _choosing_ to not be sexy. For reasons of your own.”

“Blah,” Phichit sticks out his tongue at him. ”It's not fair that you're sexy and have brains.” Phichit saunters away and grabs another fruity drink.

 

Towards the end of the evening, Phichit is so drunk, he can barely stand. He teeters over to Christophe, and curls up in his lap.

“You seem to mistake me for a chair, _mon cher_ ,” remarks Christophe.

“Mmm, yeah, comfy chair...” murmurs Phichit, snuggling in his arms.

Yuuri walks by not too steadily, and sees his best friend lying on top of Victor's best friend.

“What's he doing there?” Yuuri points at Phichit. “He doesn't feel comfortable with people like that, he must like you Christophe…” Yuuri is pulled away by Victor, who kisses his hand, and leads him in another dance.

 

**January, Exhibition Skate, Paris, France**

 

Celestino and Phichit spend two weeks training in Detroit, and visit some friends. Then Phichit flies to Paris. He is excited to participate in an exhibition skate, and expose people to traditional Thai music. However after landing at Orly airport, Phichit finds his luggage is missing. He sits on a baggage carousel, takes a selfie doing a dramatic posture of defeat, and posts it on all his social media accounts. Then he calls his hotel to notify of late check in, and learns they have given away his room. He posts a rant about French hotels, then searches online for another room. His phone rings.

“Phichit Chulanont, master of disaster!” answers Phichit.

“ _Bonjour_ , this is Christophe Giacometti, figure skater,” replies Christophe.

“Oh hi! Actually great timing, maybe I could put you on the phone with the lost luggage people, you speak French, right?”

“Actually I can do better. I will meet you at the airport, and help you with your problem.”

“That would be amazing! If they don't find my luggage, I won't be able to skate tomorrow…”

 

Phichit waves to Christophe as they meet at the carousel. Christophe speaks for a time in French with the luggage agent, then smiles reassuringly.

“Most skaters always bring their skates with them as carry-on,” puzzles Christophe.

“Well, the US security person saw I had a strange name and dark skin, and thought I might attack other travelers with my toe picks. “ He mimes the attack while doing a pirouette. “So they checked my bag.”

Christophe smiles, and says, 

“My friend has a little flat not far from the Louvre. I come here once or twice year, and go … _bouquiner_ … I mean book shopping.”

“Book shopping? Is that a new term for picking up guys?” inquires Phichit.

“No, it's an old term, for wanting to peruse and buy books,” Christophe sasses back.

Phichit grins, most people are overwhelmed by his constant teasing, but not Christophe.

 

“So would you like to go out for dinner, or just eat at my place?” offers Christophe.

“If you have food, I'm fine with that.”

“You don't need to get a hotel room, if you're comfortable sharing with me…” adds Christophe.

“… The thing is … I should warn you that I'm just a tease.” Phichit grimaces a smile.

“Meaning what? You won't have sex with me? Or you're not really gay?” Christophe queries, playfully.

“Well, I'm gay but I'm uncomfortable with… _penetration,”_ whispers Phichit.

“So you don't bottom?” confirms Christophe.

Phichit shakes his head. He bites his lips, and then confides,

“When I was a young, I told my best friend that I liked boys. And he told me that sex with girls was fine because girl holes were big. But boys that had sex with boys got hurt really bad …in the butt.”

Christophe shakes his head,

“Unfortunately, your story is not uncommon.”

“I guess. But by the time I found out more information, it didn't matter. The fear had gotten hold of me. I totally freeze up during sex.”

“ _Mon cher_ Phichit, I have a certain reputation, but I am _just_ offering you food and lodging, nothing more,” gently corrects Christophe.

“Oh. That's embarrassing. I just got nervous and shared too much,” admits Phichit, turning a bit red.

“You're Yuuri's best friend. Victor would hurt me if anything were to happen to you.”

 

They arrive at a tiny apartment, in an old stone building. Christophe slices some bread and cheese, and they sit at a tiny little table with two chairs.

“So what do you want to do this evening?” asks Christophe.

“My favorite thing is to gossip about skaters,” replies Phichit, checking his phone.

Christophe motions him to put away the phone. Phichit nods, and tucks it in his bag.

“So… ever had sex with Victor?” quizzes Phichit, looking at him mischievously.

“Not really. I once made a pass at him after a breakup, but he's never been into me. I was too cute and sweet for him, apparently,” replies Christophe, innocently.

“Is trying to seduce Victor one of the reasons your skating became so… erotic?” continues Phichit.

“One reason. The funny thing is we wouldn't have been a good couple, but I wanted him to want me… It has more to do with… power.”

“Power?”

“We humans love power. We get it from being beautiful, rich, …knowledgeable, talented, weird, or… unattainable…” muses Christophe. “I wasn't able to win gold with Victor around, but I could be the sexiest…”

“Mmmm, I hadn't thought of that. I don't feel …powerful, but I do have an edge. Two of my friends, Leo and Guang Hong are so sweet and nice, sometimes it's hard for me to relate to them. I mean, even my cute little hamsters bite…”

“So how bad a crush did you have on Yuuri?” Christophe asks, just as bluntly.

Phichit smiles dreamily.

“I adored him! He seems all weak and sweet, but he's twisted inside. In a bad way, with anxiety and in a good way, he's such a pervert! When he got together with that airhead Victor, I was worried about Victor…”

“Victor has more depth and steeliness than he usually lets on. He can be brutally honest, but his heart's in the right place. And Victor can handle his sexual perversions, believe me.”

“If only someone would be able to handle me,” wishes Phichit.

“In what way? In a relationship or in bed?”

“Either one. In bed, I'm … uncomfortable. Most guys want to do it right away, there's no talking and barely any foreplay. Great, I sound like a disgruntled housewife,” pouts Phichit.

“And in a relationship?”

“I get bored, and I feel like… there's always a power difference. Either I'm totally into them, or they're totally into me, but never both at the same time.” Phichit looks at Christophe. “What are you looking for?”

Christophe stretches backwards, “I've given up on relationships. I was with my boyfriend Florian for years, but we always seem to tear each other apart. What about you?”

“I'm an incurable romantic, and after watching Victor and Yuuri prance around like perfect soulmates, I want to get married, and grow old with my special someone.”

“ _Mon dieu!_ You make me feel like a disillusioned old man,” sighs Christophe.

 

Phichit gets back home to Bangkok, and seeing that Yuuri is online, videophones.

“Yuuri, I just told the skating sex god that I'm frigid in bed!” he annouces, then falls on his bed dramatically.

“You're pretty open with your feelings, Phichit, but that's a little much, even for you,” Yuuri replies, surprised.

“I know, I know! But when Chris talks his voice just rolls over me like soothing chocolate cream, and I reveal my deep dark secrets. Next, I'll be telling him how I ate all my little brothers' candies and told them a monkey stole them.” Phichit sighs.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Phichit is resting on his bed after a long day at the rink, and calls Christophe.

“What kind of books do you like?”

“I collect old copies of classic literature, Proust, Voltaire, Molière,…”

“What about the Marquis de Sade?”

“Definitely not my taste, I dislike violence and torture. He had some interesting political ideas though,” adds Christophe.

“So you don't just wear glasses to look intellectual. I feel frivolous in comparison, I barely read.”

“But you went to college with Yuuri…” confirms Christophe.

“Yes. I majored in psychology. I find people very interesting, not books.”

His youngest brother bursts through the door, announcing dinner.

“I'll talk to you later, it's family mealtime!” Phichit apologizes.

 

**February 14 th, Bangkok, Thailand**

 

The following week, Christophe receives another call from Phichit.

“Happy birthday! I can't believe you share your birthday with Cupid. No actually it makes perfect sense… the ultimate lover born on lovers' day,” chatters Phichit.

“Thank you. I received a copy of _Cyrano de Bergerac,_ was that from you?”

“Yes! Did I forget to put a card? It's a tragic love story, not your usual fare, but it is in French.”

“Thank you, I'm looking forward to reading it. Are you ready for the Four Continents competition?”

“Almost. I'm still trying to decide who I should date next, what do you think?” chirps Phichit.

“On the entire planet?”

“Legal aged male skaters, please,” instructs Phichit.

“Michele or Emil?”

“Incest twin or tall dork, no thanks.”

“How about that ice dancer Alex? At least he's not obsessed with his sister,” offers Christophe.

“Oh no, he's completely straight.”

“I know, that cute Japanese skater, Minami...”

“I don't think a perky person should get together with another perky person. I'm more interested in Otabek or Seung Gil … dark, moody, good-looking…” suggests Phichit, daydreaming.

“You like dark and trouble… but what about me?” Christophe says, with a fake hurt voice.

“No way. You're too tall, plus our horoscopes don't mesh. I'm a Taurus and you're an Aquarius,” explains Phichit, with mock severity.

“You believe in astrology?”

“No, it's completely ridiculous. You can't reduce billions of people's personalities to 12 types. But it's a useful template, for example Taurus wants conventional, stable relationships, while Aquarius is more eccentric and emotionally uncommitted. In that one narrow range, it happens to be accurate. And that's useful for thinking about people's personalities…”

 

**February 21st, Four Continents, Taipei, Taiwan**

 

Phichit is waiting for his plane at the Taoyuan airport. Celestino has gone to buy them food.

Phichit phones rings. _…Shall we skate!…_

“Congratulations! You were a delight to watch on the ice,” compliments Christophe.

“I skated well, but my flirting went really poorly. Yesterday after the short program, I asked Otabek to go out with me, and he says no thanks, and disappears. Then I asked Seung Gil out, and he says he never goes out the night before a competition. So I chatted all evening with Leo and Guang Hong again, I love those two but… I need a boyfriend!”

“Maybe you should stop obsessing about skaters. There are other people in the world…” informs Christophe.

Phichit sticks out his tongue, and makes a blah sound. “I know, but I loooooove skaters, don't they have the best behinds?”

Christophe laughs. “I won't argue that.”

 

The following Monday, Christophe phones Phichit from hiscouch at home.

“I noticed you called on the weekend, but that's my busiest time teaching rich ladies how to skate,” remarks Christophe.

“Mmm, I had wondered how you had managed to retire, without getting another real job.”

“I studied business in college _–_ I've made sound investments with my earnings and winnings.”

“Tell me about Florian,” questions Phichit, completely jumping subjects.

“Florian works for a athletic wear company, but he used to be an ice dancer. We met at an after skating party, where he wanted me to advertise for his company. We've been together, on and off, for many years. He takes care of my cat when I'm away. And honestly, I'm not sure where our relationship is right now.”

“Why? Incompatibility, or… a lack of fidelity?”

“A bit of both. When I first got popular in the senior-level competitions, all the attention led me to… straying. Then later on he… cheated on me, partially to get even. As time goes on, it feels like we're falling into… a friendship.”

“How come you were _straying_ , while he was _cheating_?” demands Phichit, sternly.

“Florian and I had an understanding. At home, we were monogamous, when we traveled, we could explore other options. I dated other people abroad, which was me straying. But Florian got jealous anyway, and had an affair with somebody in our hometown, which was technically cheating,” explains Christophe.

Phichit sighs dramatically. “Meanwhile, I've given a few blowjobs in the back of clubs. I want a more exciting life. So wait, you teach skating a few times a week, what do you do with the rest of your time?”

“I'm writing a book about my life called _Sex on Ice_.”

“Wow! Please send me pages to read! I _swear_ I'll be a constructive criticism kind of editor, please, please, please!” begs Phichit.

“All right but… there's a lot of very personal information, that I haven't edited for privacy. Can I trust you with my secrets?” questions Christophe.

“I can be discreet. You would be amazed by the secrets I've kept all these years,” Phichit replies tantalizingly.

 

Phichit reads through Christophe's rough draft, and calls him the following Monday.

“More smut right up front, people won't buy the book to read about your childhood,” recommends Phichit. “Your parents seem nice, but being an only child sounds so quiet. I have a sister and two younger brothers, our house is always chaotic and lively. Did you really… do all that stuff? Outside, the foursome, that weird leather bondage outfit…”

“I like to try things once. But the sad truth is that I'm actually very boring. Once I find what I like, I tend to stick to it. I love my little house, my cat, my books, and my few friends. I'm quite content,” declares Christophe.

“I'm the opposite. I'm always running around trying new foods, going to new places, listening to new music. The one area of my life that I would like to be boring and steady… is just empty. So in your book, give more details about the intimate stuff. I don't need to know their names, put more of their emotional reactions. I want to live vicariously through you,” challenges Phichit.

“All right, but writing an erotic encounter is much harder than doing one. Anyhow, I'm not expecting anyone to publish this book, but I'm enjoying the writing process.”

“What should I do once I retire?” questions Phichit.

“You could be a sports announcer, like Stéphane Lambiel,” offers Christophe.

“That's a good idea, I already have a YouCube channel where I do some commentary on skaters. But my big dream is to produce my own ice show.”

“If you want to do that, get a business plan together. Figure out a budget, staff, costumes, etc, and send me the rough draft. I'll edit your work for a change.”

Bang! Crash! Phichit hears a bunch of yelling down the hall.

“Sorry! My brothers are getting too rowdy again. I'll start on the business plan right away.”

 

Phichit is so excited about the ice show, he works on it in every spare minute, in between working out and training on the ice. Leo provides financial numbers, Guang Hongdraws detailed illustrations for the costuming, Yuuri recommends having skaters perform famous routines, and Victor is commissioned to do some original choreography. Phichit labels the whole file _Phichit on Ice_ , then sends it to Christophe.

“Phichit, _mon cher_ , are you even sleeping? How did you have time to do all this?” demands Christophe.

“No sleep, but I'm so excited, I want to explode like a firework! Feedback, please…” chatters Phichit.

“I like the idea of reusing costumes and choreography, that will save time and money, and be popular with the crowds,” comments Christophe.

“But you hate… come on just say it…” encourages Phichit.

“I'm not sure… how popular… the hamsters in candyland are going to be…” Christophe finally manages to express.

“Ha ha ha! I know everybody hates that part. Little kids would like it… maybe I'll have a matinee that's aimed at kids, and the rest of the show will be in the evening, for adults.”

“Yes, that would work better. And I'll give you back your advice, sex it up! And I mean the adult portion of the program, no one wants to see sexy hamsters.”

 

Phichit and Christophe soon spend every other evening talking. Favorite movies, favorite books, songs and food. Worst performance ever, most embarrassing moment, oddest place to have sex, favorite skater, and Phichit spends one whole evening talking about seven types of mangoes and the different desserts you can make from them.

“Describe your worst date ever…” quizzes Phichit.

“Easy. I was at a competition in… a big city. Friday, I date a skater who was part of a pair dancing team. The next night, I go out to dinner to a restaurant, and pick up this cute chef who is working there. The chef tells me about his crazy ex who had taken his kitchen knife and planted it into his bedroom dresser. Later, the skater tells me about his crazy ex, who was stalking him. On the third day, I realize that they are talking about each other…” recounts Christophe.

“You're lucky you didn't get a knife in your back!” exclaims Phichit. “I'm surprised you haven't had more bad experiences.”

“Phichit, there's something you said once, about bottoming. Don't let anybody force you. If I don't want to bottom, and I lay that down as a rule before any encounter. You don't need to explain why.”

“Chris, you're tall, handsome and have the body that all men want, and that gay men _want_. When you says 'no bottoming', they'll just say okay. When you're petite and pretty like me, your main appeal is to be used. Don't think because we're gay that we are beyond gender stereotypes. You're the gorgeous powerful man, I'm the weak girl.”

“Okay, I get your point. But who would you _want_ to be? The alpha male? Would you prefer to be a woman?”

“Mmm, I don't want the body of a woman, I like male attributes. But I might like being treated as one, well the good romantic bits, not the harassment and the discrimination,” clarifies Phichit.

“And if there was no fear, would you want to bottom?” asks Christophe.

Phichit gulps, and stay silent for a moment.

“You don't have to answer that,” insists Christophe.

“Yes. Yes, I would want to…” replies Phichit, very faintly.

Christophe hears the sounds of sobbing. He waits for a minute, then says, “Sorry I brought up a painful subject. You want to talk more?”

Phichit takes another minute to calm down, then adds,

“I used to beYuuri's confidant, and I would help him with his problems. But now he's happy, and he describes the most amazing, loving… encounters with Victor.” Phichit stays silent for a moment, then whispers, “I'm so jealous.”

“Wasn't Yuuri's life a complete mess before it improved? Maybe you need to mess up more…” recommends Christophe.

Phichit giggles. “You deal well with emotional drama queens, how come?”

“I'm not sure, but having a cat helps...”

Phichit checks the time. “Oh no, it's really late again!”

“Yes, we've been on the phone for 5 hours…” confirms Christophe.

“I know, I need to buy a headset, my ear is burning up.”

 

**March 30, World Championship Figure Skating Competition, Boston**

 

“ _Bonjour, this is Stéphane Lambiel, returning to the live coverage of the World Championship in Boston. Next up is Russia's own Yuri Plisetsky, age 18. He's been having a rocky season, and many people are speculating that his recent growth spurt is affecting his ability to land his jumps. But the field is wide open, now that the twin threat of Nikiforov and Katsuki was retired last January. Let's see how his short program goes this time…”_

 

Phichit enters the skating rink lobby, wearing a black suit, detailed with silver glitter. He sees Christophe and runs up to him, then notices Florian standing nearby. Florian puts his hand on Christophe's arm, in a possessive manner.

“Hi! I'm skating soon so... I'm going to warm-up,” babbles Phichit, then walks off.

“Good luck on your performance,” Christophe calls out to his back.

“Another one of your conquests,” Florian mutters.

“No, just a friend.”

“Christophe, you don't need to lie to me,” grumbles Florian exasperated, releasing his arm.

 

Phichit heads to the restroom, and checks his makeup, surprised by his own reaction. It's hard to imagine having romantic relationship with the tall Swiss. However, Christophe has turned out to be a kindred spirit, and a fun friend. Phichit takes a deep breath, and goes to warm up.

 

Phichit watches Plisetsky's wobbly performance with mixed feelings. He feels sorry for his difficulties, but it improves Phichit's chance of winning medals. He watches Plisetsky skate towards the kiss and cry, then he sees Plisetsky's coach collapse 10 feet away. Medical personnel quickly remove the old man on a stretcher, but Phichit feels a bit shaken, and not quite ready to skate. He suddenly notices Christophe in the stands, pointing to his phone. Phichit looks around for his bag, and fishes out his ringing cell phone.

“How do you feel?” questions Christophe.

“I'm still trembling, I'm not sure why,” replies Phichit.

“You're in shock. Drink something sweet, a sports drink,” instructs Christophe. Phichit sips some bright orange drink from his bag. “Okay. Where's your coach?”

“He followed the stretcher, …oh, there he is. Gotta go, thanks.”

Celestino comes over and hugs him, and then Phichit glides onto the ice to perform. He skates to a jazzy upbeat music, smiling and playing to the crowd.

 

**April 1, World Championship, Boston**

 

The next day, Phichit performs his free program, then watches Plisetsky perform shakily to a standing ovation. Otabek is next, but skates as if suffering from pain. As the music ends, he stands frozen, till Plisetsky skates over and helps him off the ice. Phichit watches shocked, as medical personnel bring yet another stretcher, and carry out Otabek. Remembering yesterday, Phichit grabs his orange sports drink, and sips some of it. Then he quickly unlaces his skates, puts on some shoes, and heads out to the lobby area to clear his head. Christophe shows up a few minutes later.

“Come here,” orders Christophe, and hugs him. Phichit is still trembling like he's cold, but the taller man seems to radiate a calming, soothing energy. Slightly embarrassed, Phichit pulls away.

“I'm fine, I don't know why I'm reacting like this,” apologizes Phichit.

“You're very empathetic. That makes you a good friend.”

“I have to go back. You know, Otabek can still beat me, my skating was shaky too,” grins Phichit.

“You might have felt shaky inside, but I doubt most of the audience noticed, you hid it well,” compliments Christophe. “And…”

Christophe interrupts himself, seeing Florian headed their way.

“We'll talk soon,” and walks away.

 

That evening, Phichit runs into Seung Gil, and basically drags him to his hotel room. Once inside, Seung Gil sits on one of the beds, looking confused.

“Why do you keep talking to me,” demands Seung Gil.

“Boy, you are dense, I'm interested…in sex,” replies Phichit, exasperated.

“In sex?” repeats Seung Gil, in a monotone voice.

“Yes.”

“Oh. You want me to perform anal on you?” asks Seung Gil in the same voice.

“No, I don't bottom,” declares Phichit firmly.

“Oh. Neither do I. Shall we suck each other off?”

Phichit can't believe how unsexy this conversation is. Oh well, maybe it will get better if they try.

 

The next day Phichit is waiting at the Boston airport for his flight to Bangkok. He calls Christophe.

“So yesterday after all that drama, I thought _seize the day,_ and I made another pass at Seung Gil…” confides Phichit.

“How did that go?”

“Oh Chris, it was terrible! I felt like I was participating in a clinical experiment. There was no chemistry at all,” laments Phichit.

“Sorry, I guess skating by the numbers isn't the only thing he does,” remarks Christophe.

“Actually, it's partially my fault for being oblivious. For some reason, he grew up without proper socialization.”

“Why do you say that?”

“With Seung Gil, I see a strong mathematical ability, and very good abstract thinking. However, his rudeness, or apparent coldness, might be an ignorance of how to connect socially or emotionally. Leo says Seung Gil has a dog, he might find it easier to be affectionate with animals than people.”

“Interesting. How are you feeling?”

“My heart is still pounding, I hate watching skaters get hurt. I hope Otabek will be all right.”

“That's why I retired about a year ago, I have multiple strain injuries in my back, and I preferred to retire and be able to skate long-term then continue in competition,” explains Christophe.

“I've been lucky, only minor strains, though I've hurt my wrist several times, crashing while learning jumps. All of us should skate like it's our last time on the ice,” acknowledges Phichit.

 

A few days later, Christophe calls Phichit.

“I just received my phone bill, you're costing me a lot, _chéri_.”

“It's worse for me, it's 5 hours later in Bangkok, so I'm going to bed much too late. My coach wants to kill me because I'm so tired all the time.”

“Tell me your bedtime, I'll program an alarm to warn me. I should be hanging up on you at… 5 p.m.?”

“Can you talk to me from noon to 5 p.m. your time? Aren't you working?”

“I teach in the mornings here at the ice rink, the Palladium. Then in the afternoons I write. Mmm, I should write after 5 p.m. and talk to you in the afternoons.”

 

A few weeks later, Christophe calls Phichit.

“Phichit, I gave your business plan to Stéphane Lambiel. He'd like to meet with you.”

“About the ice show? The season just ended, I bet my coach would give me time off.”

“We both teach at the Palladium in Champéry, Switzerland. He has a school there for young skaters, you could come stay with me for a few days,” offers Christophe.

Phichit puts his hand over his mouth and screeches.

“Yes yes yes yes yes!” Phichit bounces up and down. “Stéphane Lambiel is an amazing skater, so smooth, his arms are so graceful, his spins are out of this world, and he's one of the few skaters that can jump and spin in both directions…”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**May 13th, Champéry, Switzerland**

 

Christophe is waiting at the train station, he sees Phichit wave and climb down with two pieces of luggage. He bounces forward, then gives Christophe an awkward hug.

“We can walk to my house,” Christophe picks up Phichit's shoulder bag, leaving the roller bag to Phichit.

“The train ride was magnificent! The view of the mountains and the valley, it's all so… green. I'm in love with this place!” exclaims Phichit.

“The village has several ski slopes, a pool, and indoor climbing area, and of course an excellent ice rink.”

They walk together in silence, while Phichit takes in the wood and brick alpine architecture, with quaint A-line roofs, surrounded by mountains and pines. The scent of pines dominates the fresh air, and he can hear the wind rustling through the trees.

Suddenly, Phichit blurts out,

“I'm so nervous! We talk all the time on the phone, but I'm not used to your… corporeal presence – you're really tall and good-looking,” marvels Phichit.

“Phichit _chéri_ , do you have any filters when you talk to people?” asks Christophe, amused.

“Yes, actually I do… just not with you. I've been complaining to Yuuri about it, actually. You must have truth pheromones. No, I tell you everything on the phone as well – it must be your voice. It magically makes me say EVERYTHING on my mind…” chatters Phichit.

They walk about 300 meters uphill, to an old A-line chalet, with a narrow red balcony overlooking the entire valley of pine trees and cabins. The front door is on the side of the house, and they enter a small living room with wood paneling and a beehive fireplace with the same view. A white cat jumps down from top of bookcase, and lands on Christophe's shoulder.

“Bonjour Minette!” coos Christophe, petting the white fur.

“ _ôh hŏh bâan sŭay jang_!” cries Phichit.

“What?”

“This is a nice house!” repeats Phichit. “This is so romantic, it's ridiculous! I keep expecting to see Swiss chocolate and a Swiss watch over in the corner, like some advertisement.”

“It was built in the 1870s, but I modernized the kitchen.”

Christophe prepares a snack, they eat, then walk through the little village over to the sports complex called the Palladium.

 

Phichit talks with Stéphane Lambiel for over an hour at a terrace restaurant.

“So you're saying that if I can guarantee that these big-name skaters will be there, I've got a location and backers?” Phichit says incredulously.

“That is exactly right,” replies Stéphane.

“I don't mean to sound… ungrateful, but this seems too easy. I worked very hard on my business plan, but even so…”

“Well, this Las Vegas hotel was thrilled by the idea of your ice show, and for them it's only a three day commitment. Did you know that Christophe has been working nonstop on this project?”

“No. Please explain,” asks Phichit, astonished.

“He has made innumerable phone calls, he's been networking with all his contacts and with Nikiforov's contacts as well, and I've even heard rumors that he made a trip to Las Vegas. Supposedly, he was wining and dining a very handsome woman who had some decision making abilities towards the show.”

“I'm flabbergasted. I've been so busy training, and competing, I had no idea what he was up to...at any rate, thank you very much for your time and effort, and for the insight into my friend.”

 

Phichit meets back up with Christophe.

“How did the talk with Stéphane go?” questions Christophe.

“Better than expected. He said if I can guarantee the skaters I mentioned, there's a new hotel in Las Vegas that will be opening next summer that would love to have my ice show.”

They walk through the village, and stop for dinner at a restaurant with stone walls and giant wood beams.

“Lately you haven't been sending me any new pages.” Phichit watches Christophe carefully.

“I've been busy,” replies Christophe, in between bites of food.

“You teach skating a few hours a week, you're retired, and aside from talking with me a ridiculous amount of hours, you have no responsibilities,” Phichit informs him.

“What's your point?” Christophe asks, puzzled.

“Stéphane Lambiel told me how much work you've been doing on my ice show,” accuses Phichit.

“Ah. I'm sorry. You could have networked and done all of that yourself, but with your training schedule…” says Christophe apologetically.

“I'm not upset. I'm fine with having a business partner, but from now on, you get full credit and acknowledgment for your work,” lectures Phichit, wagging his finger at him.

 

The next morning, Phichit gets up early, works out, and runs. Then he buys some croissants and meat pies at the bakery. He talks outside with friends, then sets up his laptop and spends time online. Christophe is surprised how easy their time together is – he thought Phichit might chatter too much or intrude on his routine. Instead, he finds Phichit very self-sufficient. On the contrary, Florian was the one always begging him for more attention, and interrupting his writing.

 

When Phichit gets back, Christophe announces,

“Gather your skating gear, I have a special surprise for you today.” Phichit and Christophe head to the Palladium ice rink, where Stéphane Lambiel is waiting for them.

“Stéphane has agreed to give you a private lesson this morning.”

Phichit grins, and hugs Christophe. They spend the next hour, going over some tips for spins and jumps. Then Stéphane joins Christophe along the edge, and they both watch Phichit practice some more.

“Your friend Phichit has amazing charisma. He practically glows,” declares Stéphane.

Christophe nods in agreement, watching Phichit with rapt attention.

“ _Cher_ Christophe, you are glowing as well... are you two dating?”

Christophe glances over, surprised. “No, we're just friends.”

Stéphane looks speculatively at his tall friend, then continues to watch Phichit on the ice.

 

They hike back to Christophe's cabin so Phichit can shower. Christophe knocks on the bathroom,

“Hurry up we'll be late!”

Christophe sits on the couch for another half-hour, wondering what Phichit could possibly be doing in the bathroom. Eventually, Phichit emerges wearing a white shirt, a green lederhosen outfit, and green eyeshadow.

“Too much? I don't want to embarrass you…” questions Phichit, cocking his head uncertainly.

Christophe laughs. “Hard to do. Let's go!”

“What are we late for?” quizzes Phichit.

“The Miss Champéry competition.”

They arrive at a festival on the edge of town, and Christophe points out his favorite contestant.

“Her? You mean that cow?” asks Phichit dubiously.

“She's got pretty eyes, almost as beautiful as yours,” compliments Christophe. They watch as a dozen brown and white cows are examined and judged. Pretty Eyes wins the title of Miss Champéry.

“You're an excellent judge of cow beauty,” concedes Phichit. “What's next?”

 

The town is crowded for the festival, so Christophe grabs Phichit's hand and leads them towards a temporary outdoor music stage. They squeeze themselves into some seats.

“The band will be playing yodel folk rock,” instructs Christophe.

Phichit's eyes widen.

“I've landed in the _Sound of Music_.”

“That was in Austria,” corrects Christophe.

“Oh right, _totally_ different,” Phichit rolls his eyes.

Phichit is sitting very close to Christophe, the area is so crowded, people are pushing in on all sides. Christophe is looking at him smiling, when the energy shifts, and Phichit feels Christophe is going to kiss him. He closes his eyes, his heart pounding, then he hears,

“Let's buy some food.” Christophe takes him by the hand, and buys them both giant pretzels. Phichit sighs. Why would such a handsome man kiss him, and in public?

They eat and listen to the music from a distance. Then they head back up to Christophe's chalet. They sit on two chairs on the narrow red balcony overlooking the picturesque valley.

“It's so different from Bangkok, but I love it.” He spreads his arm wide as if embracing the scenery. Christophe grins again, amazed at how Phichit's joy is contagious.

“So how many of your discarded lovers live in this town?” suddenly asks Phichit.

“None. Florian has moved to Lausanne.”

“But didn't you spend most of your time here training?”

“Training, yes. Seducing, I do abroad.”

“Too bad, I thought you might finally seduce me.” Phichit feels the energy again, like a magnetic pull towards Christophe.

“Not a good idea, _mon cher_ ,” observes Christophe.

“Why not?”

“I want to remain friends,” declares Christophe firmly.

“You won't remain my friend if we have sex?” asks Phichit, surprised.

“You would be the one with the difficulty, I'm willing to bet,” replies Christophe.

Phichit stands up, and looks out at the valley.

“I guess you don't find me attractive….” Disappointed at being turned down, Phichit goes inside to get a drink.

Christophe watches him go indoors, and whispers to himself,

“So ridiculous, you're beautiful… ”

 

That evening, Christophe makes dinner and serves them a little bit of wine and then lights the fireplace.

They eat their meal, then Phichit sits down on the rug in front of the fire, stretching both legs to do the splits. Christophe sits on the floor beside him and also starts to stretch. Christophe offers,

“Shall I pull your arms to deepen the stretch?”

Phichit nods, and offers out his arms. They pull each other back and forth, stretching their legs and backs. After a while, unable to deal with the weird tension between them, Phichit gets up and goes to the bathroom.

 

The sun is setting, the cabin is getting dark. Christophe is reading a book on the couch, while Phichit surfs the Internet on his phone, ignoring the novel in his lap.

“I'm tired, I'm going to bed. Good night,” announces Christophe, closing his book.

Phichit pushes him back down, gets on his knees, and biting his lip, starts to unzip Christophe's pants. Christophe stops him with his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm coming on to you,” Phichit replies. Christophe pulls Phichit back up on the couch.

“Why?”

Phichit searches for words. “I keep feeling a pull…sorry if I crossed a line shouldn't have. Please tell me what's in your head, I can't read you at all,” replies Phichit, his voice cracking.

Christophe removes his glasses, and rubs his temples.

“I'm worried you're going to get hurt. You're not just Victor's boyfriend's friend, you're _my_ friend now. _Chéri,_ you want a relationship, so I haven't been taking your flirting seriously. However, I find you very…alluring.”

“But I'm nothing like Florian…”

“No, you're not. Am I only allowed to like one type of person?”

Phichit sits for moment thinking.

“I've read a bit on your past. I agree to a one night stand.”

Christophe leans in close, “Good. I've been wanting to kiss you all day.”

Christophe cradles Phichit's face in his hands, and very slowly nibbles his lips. He gives him a long, open mouthed kiss, and the hot moistness leaves Phichit quivering. Phichit sits on his lap and continues to kiss, till Christophe falls back on the couch. They explore each other's faces, and upper body through their clothes. Phichit moans in contentment and frustration, opening his mouth, as Christophe opens and sucks on his tongue. Phichit reaches down again to Christophe's pants, only to be pushed away, and frustrated Phichit asks,

“Why are you pushing me away?”

“ _Chéri_ , I'm in the unusual position of knowing a lot about you, especially your sexual history, so I want to do things differently.”

“Different how?”

“For now, no blow jobs. That's off limits. Above the waist.” Not sure what to do, Phichit lets Christophe take the lead. Christophe runs kisses on the inside of his arm, up the neck, and pulls down his leather suspenders to access his white shirt to kiss the lower back, just above his pants. This is the way sex ought to feel, Phichit thinks, this tingling, this burning feeling all over his skin. Phichit is so turned on, it's hard to focus on pleasuring his partner.

“I… I should do something for you…” gasps Phichit.

Christophe laughs. “You are, watching your face is a pleasure. Plus these leather shorts are weirdly sexy.”

Lying on top, Phichit can feel both of their bulges rubbing, and desperately wants to reach out and…

“No, no cheating,” orders Christophe.

Phichit groans in frustration. But Christophe continues caressing and kissing till Phichit grinds his crotch, beyond control. Christophe reaches down, undoes the two buttons of the leather front, and palms his hard on til he comes. Phichit feels a surge of pleasure, and quickly shoves his hand in his mouth. They hold each other for a while, and Christophe murmurs,

“Do the same to me.” Phichit reaches for his zipper, but Christophe shakes his head.

“From the beginning.” Phichit feels odd trying to lick fingers and elbows. It doesn't feel sexy, nor does it seem to be arousing his friend.

“Am I doing it wrong? It's not having the same effect on you,” remarks Phichit, feeling a bit incompetent.

Christophe smiles, “Right. So what would I like?”

Uncomfortable in his leather pants, Phichit gives him a quick peck and goes to change. He puts on a fresh pair of pink pajamas, and wonders what he knows of the Swiss's personality. Eccentric. Free. Exhibitionist?

Pitchit grabs his phone, goes back out to the living room, and plays some music.

“Dance for me,” he orders.

Christophe winks, and moves around, sensually twisting his body.

“Remove your shirt.”

Christophe does a slow striptease, and removes his shirt, then pants, finallly only wearing a pair of black briefs.

“Touch yourself.”

Phichit watches unbelievably as the other man caresses and touches himself unselfconsciously. Damn, this is so hot, and to have that gorgeous man in his mouth... Phichit starts sucking on his own thumb.

Christophe pulls Phichit's hand away from his mouth, and sucks Phichit's still wet thumb. Phichit stares. Then, for good measure, Christophe runs his tongue up and down the other fingers, then takes the index and middle finger and sucks them together.

“I'm dying to suck you off...” murmurs Phichit.

Christophe nods yes, walks forward, and Phichit pulls down his black briefs.

“Wow. Your penis is gorgeous, and huge,” exclaims Phichit. He licks and sucks the tip, running his tongue on the top slit. Then with a mixture very light teeth and lips, runs up and down the shaft. Phichit sees with satisfaction that Christophe is no longer smiling pleasantly, but appears to be lost in a haze of pleasure. Phichit darts his tongue in and out with increasing speed, while caressing and slightly tugging on the balls. Christophe suddenly comes, spurting all over his face. Christophe reaches over, grabs his shirt, and gently wipes Phichit's face. Then he pulls his underwear back up, and pulls the other into a cuddle on the couch.

“So where is my erogenous zone?” quizzes Christophe.

“I'm still in school? In your twisted brain. Do you normally act this way with your lovers?” demands Phichit.

“No, not at all. By the way, you're far from frigid. You just need a competent caring lover. I'm going to have a serious chat with your next boyfriend,” declares Christophe sternly.

“What will you say?”

“Your next boyfriend should wine and dine you, make out for hours like a teenager, and be madly in love with you.”

They continue to snuggle on the couch, and Phichit timidly asks,

“May I ...sleep with you tonight?”

Christophe hugs him, “Yes, I would like that.”

Christophe find some dark green pajamas he wears during cold winter nights, and changes into them. They brush their teeth, and Phichit removes his makeup and moisturizes his face. Christophe picks up the small jar of moisturizer to read the label, and Phichit opens it and spread some on his friend's face. They lie down in Christophe's bed, spooning on their right sides, and Phichit yawns.

“Christophe, on your back, I saw some scars… are those from the operation?”

Christophe body tightens for a moment, then he responds,

“Yes. I've read that skaters land with several Gs of force on one leg. Being bigger probably aggravated the problem. I told you I had to retire because of my back.”

“I remember watching you skate in Barcelona, you were definitely unforgettable.”

Phichit snuggles his head into Christophe's shoulder, and yawns again.

“Did you have a good stay in Champéry?” inquires Christophe.

“This was the best day ever. Someday when I'm married, old and gray, I will remember this perfect day… with you.”

Christophe feels his heart lurch a bit at these words.

“Your husband will be one lucky person,” he murmurs and kisses his friend's head.

 

Christophe wakes up, surprised at finding a warm peaceful presence in his bed. He gazes at the midnight black hair spilling on the pillow from the bronzed arm still draped across his chest. He blinks at the light coming through the windows, and realizes the sun is already high in the sky. He checks the time.

“Phichit, I hate to wake you, but you're going to miss your train. We slept through the alarm.”

Phichit bolts up, looks around to get his bearings, then runs to the restroom,

“I'll be ready in 5 minutes!”

He throws his clothes into his bags, grabs his toiletry bag, and quickly gets dressed. Christophe is already dressed, and hands him a warm croissant. Christophe grabs the shoulder bag again, starts walking downhill, eating a croissant as well. They make it to the station with about 15 minutes to spare.

“I can't wait with you, I have an appointment with a client at the ice rink. _Bon voyage_ ,” says Christophe, and without thinking, tilts Phichit's chin up and gives him a long passionate kiss. Phichit stands there, dazed. He's never been kissed by a man in public before, let alone that kind of kiss. Christophe runs off waving.

 

Christophe sprints back up the hill, grabs his skating gear, and jogs to the Palladium. He's already cursing himself. He should have given his Thai friend a peck on the cheek, not the goodbye of a lover. He figures that Phichit will talk to Yuuri, Yuuri will talk to Victor, and Victor will be chewing him out by the end of the day. Imagining Victor yelling at him, Christophe mumbles to himself,

“I know, Victor, I know. I messed up. I should have kept my hands off. If I break his heart… I don't know what I will do.”

These last few days have felt like a dream. He suddenly realizes that he has no photos, or proof that the weekend happened. Even Phichit had left his phone off most the time. Christophe remembers Phichit calling Thailand, and Phichit did take one photo of the two of them with a cow. He sends a quick text to Phichit asking for a copy of the photo. Then he texts him again, asking when he arrives in Bangkok.

 


	4. Chapter 4

A week later, Christophe's phone rings early in the morning. He quickly answers,

“Phichit?”

“Christophe? It's Victor. Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes. I was expecting a call. How's life in Hasetsu?”

“I have wonderful news. Yuuri and I are expecting a baby… probably in December.”

“I'm flabbergasted! Congratulations! How did this come about…”

“There is much to share but, …please don't tell Phichit, Yuuri wants to tell him himself.”

 

After two weeks of being holed up in his cabin, Christophe sleeps in late again, then drags himself out of bed and forces himself to eat something. He checks his phone, and sees several angry messages from Gaëlle, a rich widow he was supposed to teach. No messages, no texts from Phichit. He turns on his laptop, and checks Phichit's blog, and other SNS. Absolutely no activity. Irritated, he dials Yuuri Katsuki.

“Good evening! How are you, Christophe?” asks Yuuri.

“Fine, thank you. I was wondering if you'd heard anything from Phichit in the last few weeks?”

“Phichit? No, we haven't talked lately, why do you ask?”

“He hasn't called or texted in two weeks, and he hasn't posted anything online.”

“Oh no, that sounds serious. I'm calling Celestino, I'll call you back.”

 

Christophe sits at his computer, and searches online for Celestino Cialdini. It shows the coach living in Detroit, not Bangkok, and coaching Guang Hong, not Phichit. What's going on? Did Phichit fire his coach? Christophe's phone rings,

“I hear you've been searching for me,” Phichit greets him nervously.

“I… I… first let me say I'm glad you're okay, but I'm extremely upset with you right now,” Christophe answers, trying to stay calm.

“Why is that?” squeaks Phichit.

“How often do you usually call me?” questions Christophe.

“Mmm, … at lease once a week?”

“More like every other day, and if I count texts, several times a day,” instructs Christophe.

“Okay, that's true,” admits Phichit.

“Next time you decide to not contact me for two weeks, let me know beforehand,” demands Christophe.

“So if I decide to avoid you, I should let you know that I'm avoiding you, and ahead of time,” clarifies Phichit.

“You've been avoiding me? Why?”

“So… you know when you dropped me off at the train station a couple of weeks ago? I sort of… didn't leave.”

“What!?”

“Stéphane Lambiel was really impressed with my skating, but more importantly, he felt like he really had something new to teach me, and he offered to coach me this season. Celestino had been wanting to go back to the United States, and was quite happy to end our contract. I'm living with several other figure skating students, my roommate's name is Pascal. He's tall blonde and really nice! I've been meaning to call you, actually, I thought my presence would be communicated to you sooner through the rumor mill…” explains Phichit.

“You're _here_ … in Champéry,” repeats Christophe, in shock.

“I was nervous about telling you. This place, this village is your home and you seem to like to keep it very private. Especially after… being intimate, I was worried it would feel like I'm… intruding in your life, or chasing you, or something,…” continues Phichit worriedly.

Christophe rubs his his hand on his scrubbly face, still overwhelmed.

“It's fine, Phichit. We're friends, I'm happy for you.”

 

Christophe heads to the bathroom, and sees in the mirror a week old beard, unkept hair, and realizes his home looks just as messy as he does. He cleans up the kitchen, showers and shaves, then packs a bag.

 

**Lausanne, Switzerland**

 

Florian gets out of bed, and puts on some pants. He looks down at Christophe, still naked, and who is staring at the ceiling.

“A bit disappointing, Christo, but thank you for the visit. Why are you here?”

Christophe looks over, puzzled.

“Just visiting Lausanne.”

“Cruising in Lausanne is what you mean. So why aren't you at a hotel with some stranger?”

“I went to several bars, I already … encountered several people.”

“And… ? You're always the worst at sharing. So what happened?”

Christophe frowns, and shakes his head. He mutters,

“It's what _didn't_ happen…”

“Oh! So what didn't happen here, didn't happen all evening… Don't worry. You're probably just having a bad day. Unless something is on your mind?”

“No. I'm fine,” replies Christophe frowning, then gets dressed.

 

Saturday morning, Christophe arrives at the Palladium ice rink in order to teach a beautiful divorcee, Delphine. He sees that Lambiel's students are taking a break, and Phichit is chatting with a tall blonde teenage boy. Christophe has already warmed up, so he practices some jumps and some spins. He lands a quad lutz right next to Phichit, who looks up, smiles and waves. He feels a twinge in his back, and feels like an idiot for showing off. He skates over to his student, Delphine. She is wearing a white fur-lined exercise outfit, and diamond earrings. Christophe tries to be his usual charming self.

“I'm very mad you cancelled on me these last few weeks, but you were very sick, weren't you?” whines Delphine.

“Of course. Only the most violent illness would keep me from your side, _ma chère dame_ ,” coos Christophe obligingly, while kissing her hand. Christophe can almost feel a piercing gaze on his back. He peeks over his shoulder, and sees Phichit staring at him intently. Damn! Christophe feels uncomfortable, but tries to focus on his client, and teaches her a simple arabesque.

 

A week later, Phichit is exhausted from training on the ice, and smiles happily at his fellow group of Swiss skaters. They are friendly bunch, and it's fun to be the older wise one of the group. Pascal and Cédric invite him for Loïc's birthday celebration that evening, when he realizes he dropped one of his gloves at the rink. He walks back into the hallway towards the ice rink, and runs into Christophe. The hallway suddenly feels too small for the both of them.

“Hello again,” chirps Phichit.

“Phichit, how is your training?” asks Christophe.

“Good… really good. I'm excited about my new free program,” adds Phichit.

“You haven't called all week, nor have you answered my calls.”

“True.”

“Please share what's happening.”

Phichit looks around, “Maybe somewhere less public.”

“Come to my house tonight and have dinner.”

“Tonight's not good, we're all going out to celebrate Loïc's birthday …”

“Come over after, I'll be up.” Christophe returns to teaching another rich client some simple ice-skating move. The lady's phone rings, and she interrupts her private skating class to chat. Christophe winks in Phichit's direction. Phichit nods, grabs his glove, and returns to the changing area.

 

Phichit knocks on Christophe's door around 10 p.m. He is quickly let in and given a glass of wine. Phichit shakes his head, and requests a mineral water. Phichit takes seat on one end of the couch, and Christophe joins him at the other end.

“I've gone from being your best friend, or one of your best friends, to not being your friend at all.”

“I want you to be my friend, I'm just having difficulty…” starts Phichit.

“If you're avoiding me for my sake, you don't need to do that. There's more to it?”

“Really, I'm not sure what's happening, you've always been good-looking but I've never… seriously wanted to pursue anything physical. But suddenly here in Champéry, there's a …crazy attraction. And it's a problem ... when I think of you, I have…erotic thoughts,” confesses Phichit.

“And how is that a problem?”

Phichit pretends to be on the phone.“Hi, how was your day? Are you naked?”

“My day was awful... and I'm not wearing pants,” replies Christophe jokingly, also pretending to be on the phone.

“I'm embarrassed because because you warned me about ruining our friendship with sex.” Phichit says despondently. “I really miss talking with you.” Phichit reaches out squeezes Christophe's hand.

Christophe shifts on the sofa facing towards Phichit, focusing on their touching hands.

“So if I want you as my friend, I must have sex with you?” questions Christophe.

“No of course not. I just need time to deal with this,” replies Phichit annoyed, pulling his hand away.

“Most people would just… go with the flow.”

“I would except for your… _reputation_. Now I wish I hadn't read your rough drafts… actually you owe me five more pages,” demands Phichit petulantly.

“Fine. You need to get me signed contract from all the skaters, only then will the insurance people move forward,” Christophe shoots back.

They both sit quietly, at an impasse. Phichit gets up, walks around the tiny living room, and thinks aloud,

“So… you're just mildly attracted to me, and I have a sudden intense attraction, which puts us at a power differential. So no. I'm not going with the flow,” decides Phichit.

“Mmm, I guess you were listening when I was talking about power. I'm not sure what's happening. At the wedding, you spent more time in my lap than on the dance floor, and I was fine. In Paris, you were cute and vulnerable, I had no trouble saying no. But you're right, I've been struggling to keep my hands off you since you landed here in town. So I disagree. We're equally attracted to each other. It's just you want a relationship and I don't,” argues Christophe.

“Fine.” Phichit swallows nervously. “Don't be my boyfriend. Be my teacher.”

“What?” yelps Christophe. Phichit smiles at the astounded look. Phichit continues,

“Look, who knows, now that I know more about Seung Gil, maybe he and I could have a working relationship. But if we're both sexual novices… anyway I'm tired of fumbling around. It sounds pitiful, but sex with you was fun and satisfying. _Teach me,_ ” coaxes Phichit.

Christophe runs his hand through his hair on the back of his head, pensive.

“Phichit, you know how we keep running into each other in the hallway of the ice rink?”

“Yes, of course,” acknowledges Phichit, puzzled.

“Every time, I want press you against the wall, and kiss you till you whimper,” confides Christophe. Phichit sits back down on the couch and presses his hand against his neck, which feels on fire.

“Really?” he squeaks.

“Tell me what sexual thoughts you've been having,” challenges Christophe.

“I'm not sure …but I feel like my whole body is burning… And when I'm not totally focused on skating or whatever I'm doing, I keep imagining you touching me.” Phichit slaps his face lightly on both sides. “I really need to focus.”

Christophe pulls Phichit onto his lap, and caresses the cheeks he just slapped.

Phichit hesitates, then nods his head. Christophe pulls him down, and kisses him again and again, till Phichit feels like he's turning into mango jelly.

“Why am I so pent-up?” questions Phichit, in a daze

“Because we have been flirting for months…” explains Christophe, in between sucking Phichit's neck.

“On the phone?”

“Yes, on the phone… feels like the longest foreplay in history….”

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

**June 30, Champéry, Switzerland**

 

Phichit crosses Christophe in the hallway of the ice rink. Christophe looks in both directions, then not seeing anybody, he presses Phichit up against the wall, and nibbles on his lower lip. Phichit's body responds immediately, begging to be touched, pulling in closer. Then sensing someone walking their way, he pushes away, and announces,

“I just got my assignments for the Grand Prix, I'm going to Moscow, then Beijing again!”

“Come over tonight, I'll make you dinner and we'll… celebrate.”

 

Phichit comes into the chalet, puts his shoes in the regular spot by the door. He's been spending more time here than at his dorm room. He even has some clothing and a toothbrush here. Christophe gives him a quick peck hello, and goes outside to stack firewood. Phichit sits on the couch, and Minette comes over to be petted.

“What do you think, Minette? I never thought I'd be having a torrid sex life…I don't have much dating experience. Should I ask the terms of friends with benefits? He's just going to say _go with the flow,_ right?”

Christophe serves dinner, and Phichit decides to avoid the topic as usual.

 

After dinner, Christophe lays down a blanket in front of the fire.

“Mmm, show me what you like… pleasure yourself, while I watch.”

Phichit's eyes go wide, and he squeaks, “I don't know if I can do that,” blushing.

Christophe hugs him from behind, “Yes, you can. Close your eyes, and talk me through it.”

“Oh, mmm, I usually play with myself in the bathtub. I'm already naked, and I like the wet heat. I imagine someone is kissing me, and trailing his hands down my neck.” Phichit runs his hands on his own neck. Christophe is not moving, and he feels warm and safe in his arms.

“And I play with my nipples, I imagine my lover kissing them, and then I start stroking myself.” Phichit rubs his growing hard on through his pants. He unbuttons his pants, and takes them off, leaving a pair of yellow satin briefs covered in strawberries. He peeks over at Christophe who is watching him through half lidded eyes.

“I'll take my shirt off, if you take off yours,” bargains Phichit.

Amused, Christophe peels off his shirt, revealing his tanned muscled torso. Phichit takes off his shirt, feeling skinny and boyish in comparison.

“Great, you probably feel like you're seducing a minor,” mutters Phichit.

Christophe pats the rug next to him, “You're right in the middle of a story, continue.” Phichit lies back down onto his left side. He can feel Christophe's warm chest on his back.

Christophe leans into his ear, and whispers “You look gorgeous, and your bronze skin looks delectable.”

Phichit gulps, he can feel Christophe's bulging pants on his backside.

“I forgot my train of thought,” admits Phichit.

Christophe takes Phichit's right hand and slides it under the waistband and onto his erect cock. Phichit pulls down his satin underpants, and strokes himself. He can feel Christophe behind him remove his pants, and Christophe plays with himself as well.

“Next, I stroke my cock, and imagine warm lips sucking me...”

Phichit feels close to orgasm, and reflexively puts his left hand into his mouth, muffling himself. Phichit comes, whimpering, then a bit later Christophe comes, moaning. Christophe gets up and gets a warm moist cloth, wipes himself down, then comes over and wipes Phichit as well. Then he lies back down, cuddling.

“Why do you always cover your mouth?”

“I've always lived with other people, family or roommates. I can't really scream every time I masturbate.”

 

**July, Champéry, Switzerland**

 

Christophe is sitting on his couch reading a book, with Phichit leaning next to him, also reading. Phichit turns the page, and a single white rose flattened and dried falls out from his book. Phichit is about to pick it up, when his phone rings.

“Yuuri! We barely talk anymore. How is the coaching going?”

Phichit listens to the response, and stands up on the couch, squealing.

“ _Dtaai láew_! Congratulations! I'm so excited,” Phichit looks over at Christophe, “am I allowed to tell anyone? Of course. We'll talk later, I want to know _everything_!”

Phichit jumps off the couch, and brimming with energy, says,

“I'm going … for a run,” he decides.

“Yuuri told you about the baby, didn't he,” mentions Christophe, casually.

Phichit's eyes widen. “You knew?! Not fair,” and tries to tickle him.

Christophe evades his fingers, and picks up the dried flower.

“What's this?”

“A good luck charm from Yuuri's wedding. Oh, it's like a dream come true, two guys having a perfect fairytale…” chatters Phichit, putting the flower back in his book.

“Why haven't you told Yuuri about us?” questions Christophe.

Phichit is still dancing around the room, overjoyed.

“What makes you think I haven't?” replies Phichit, evading the question.

 

**October 29th, (Skate Canada), Champéry, Switzerland**

 

Christophe is at home, streaming the Skate Canada competition. His phone rings.

“Christophe! You're still awake. Did you just watch Plisetsky's short program?”

“Ah, yes.”

“What happened to that pretty little boy? He's all grown up and… trying to out sex you on the ice.”

“You're the one always talking to Katsuki, you didn't know about this?”

“He's been asking a lot of questions about dating, he gave me no clue as to the choreography.”

“Dating? Isn't he married?”

“Oh my Yuuri is married, but his skater is not, and supposedly Plisetsky is… exploring his sexuality.”

“Phichit, come over, watching that kind of skating has me hot and bothered…”

“Oh good, me too. I'll be over in a few minutes.”

 

Phichit arrives, and sits on the couch, checking out the final standings.

“So, I know it's late, but would you like to do anything special tonight?”

“Actually… I was wondering if you would try some anal play on me.”

Christophe looks surprised. “That might get heavy emotionally.”

Phichit looks at him directly in the eyes. “I'm game if you are.”

Christophe drags one hand gently down Phichit's right arm.

“Tell me exactly what you had in mind…”

 

Phichit is lying on his back, naked. A black cloth covers Phichit's eyes, making his hearing and touch more acute. His hands are loosely tied to reduce movement, leaving his arousal the focus. In his mind, he pretends to be a slave, a toy for his master. No more choices, just a submission to pleasure.

“If you say stop, I will stop. You can also say red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for go.” Christophe gets some lube, and spend some time running his hands all over Phichit's body.

“This slave is hot for me, let me see if I can prove that. I'm gonna put my fingers here, is that okay slave?” Phichit nods. Christophe insists, “I need to hear words!”

“Yes… please… Master,” replies Phichit. Christophe spend some time massaging the exterior of Phichit's hole. Phichit feels so tense, he feels like he's at the doctor getting an exam.

“Remember, your most important erogenous zone is your brain. You can get an orgasm from just an image, a dream, a voice or a touch... _chéri_ , think of something pleasurable, something that really turns you on,” instructs Christophe.

Pitchit is frustrated, he was really looking forward to finally fulfilling his fantasy. He feels Christophe pull down the blindfold, and kiss his face,

“What are you thinking?”

“I feel like a bundle of nerves, I can't think of anything sexy.”

“Well… I'm thinking that I'm about to burst my pants, looking at you. I've bought the cutest slave boy, and I've torn off his clothing, and tied him up. Now I can do anything I want with him,” Christophe says in a deep voice.

“Get on your hands and knees,” orders Christophe, and replaces the blindfold.

“You are tempting me, slave, naked with that amazing ass in the air, and I would love to slowly bury my cock deep inside you, and make you whimper in pleasure, till you come again and again.…” aroused by Christophe's words, Phichit feels his outer sphincter relax, and he feels the pressure of one finger. Phichit trembles, and makes a slight sound. The finger moves till it finds the sweet spot, creating a jolt of pleasure. The finger rubs it again and again, and Phichit moans. As the waves of pleasure intensify, he feels himself bucking backwards, and Christophe intensifies the finger movement, and strokes Phichit's cock at the same time. The intensity of both types of stimulation creates an unbearable pleasure. Phichit's cries and his moaning becomes more frenzied, then louder, and louder, till he can hear himself screech at a high pitch. “Ah, ah, uh, Uh! Uh! OH! YEAH! AH! AAAAAAAAAH!”

 

Christophe unties the silk restraints, massaging the wrists, then stretches languorously next to Phichit.

“Your high pitched moans and squeals are adorable. I like how you didn't hold anything back.” Christophe smiles. “It's like having sex with a cute hamster.”

Phichit throws a pillow at him. “If I become emotionally scarred and inhibited it's your fault this time.”

“Remind me to only rent soundproof rooms, otherwise we'll get complaints from the neighbors,” jests Christophe in reply.

Phichit sits on top of Christophe, inspired by the erection in front of him, and picks up the silk ties.

“How about I tie you up this time?”

“Your wish is my command…”

Phichit ties each arm separately to the bedposts, then each leg. He then goes and gets his phone, and takes pictures of Christophe tied up and naked, and quips,

“Pics for my personal collection. Now for _your_ torture.”

Phichit proceeds to lick and suck his cock with ease and expertise. Every time Christophe gets close to coming, Phichit takes a break, and plays with own cock instead. Finally, Christophe starts begging,

“Please, I can't stand it anymore, let me come.”

Phichit takes another photo, and asks,

“Where do you want to come?”

“Anywhere, just let me come…” groans Christophe.

Phichit sucks a little bit more,

“Tell me where!” demands Phichit forcefully.

“Mouth. _Please._ ”

Phichit finally fully goes down deeply on the cock, sucking and thrusting onto it, till Christophe finally explodes in his mouth. Phichit swallows, and lies down on top of Christophe still tied up. A little later, he unties all four limbs, and massages them, imitating Christophe. He lies back on top, and snuggles into his chest.

“How come I'm so bright and cheerful, but my desires are dark and twisted?”

“People are full of contradictions. You remind me of the yin yang symbol, perhaps you need more darkness because you're so full of light.”

“It doesn't bother you?”

“No. I draw the line at pain, or damaging the body. But my biggest turn on is watching my partner's reactions,” murmurs Christophe, caressing Phichit's face.

 

**November 6 Rostelecom Cup, Moscow, Russia**

 

Morooka announcer, ” _Phichit Chulanont takes the ice, while he doesn't have all the quads that the other competitors have, but he really knows how to connect with the audience and the judges.”_

 

Phichit is wearing a green loose shirt, with an open V-neck embroidered with gold, and Celtic embroidery on the front and back. His black pants are decorated with more gold embroidery going up and down the edges of the legs. The music is Celtic, and starts with the beautiful sound of flutes. As the music speeds up into a jig, Phichit begins an Irish inspired step sequence. The audience claps along, and as the program ends, the crowd stands up and cheers.

 

_Morooka announcer: He's on fire! So entertaining, great skating! A standing ovation!_

 

Phichit greets his coach at the kiss and cry, then waits in a corner.

… _Shall we skate!…_

“Congratulations, you skated beautifully, especially your free program. You're definitely the best entertainer on the ice,” enthuses Christophe.

“Thanks, though it feels strange not to have you old dinosaurs around.”

“Ouch, I guess you're not interested in talking to this old dinosaur tonight.”

“You want to chat once I get back to my hotel room? I'm tired, hang up on me if you hear snoring.”

 

**November, Champéry, Switzerland**

 

Phichit gets back to his dorm room, bruised, exhausted, and spent. His roommate Pascal has invited a cute girl over, Noémie, so Phichit decides to grab his bag and visit Christophe. Phichit knocks, lets himself in, only to find Christophe in a bad mood as well. Christophe is wearing a huge bath robe, and is listening to a police drama while playing a videogame on his laptop.

“You had a bad day, what happened?”

“One of my clients, Gaëlle, offered me a huge sum of money to sleep with her. When I refused, she contacted the ice rink director, and accused me of sexually harassing her.”

“Ouch! I guess that's one of the dangers of being a skate gigolo.” Phichit covers his mouth, as he realizes what he said. “I'm sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“No. It's good to hear what you really think. You should leave me alone tonight. There's a bag of stuff near the door, please take it with you.”

Phichit puts on his shoes, picks up the bag. Inside, he sees a few things he's left behind over the last few months. A toothbrush, some face cream, a T-shirt and shorts, and the same novel he's been reading for months. Blinking back tears, he puts on his coat and reaches for the door, when he feels Christophe hug him from behind.

“Please stay. I behaved… badly.” Christophe takes the bag, and puts it down. Then he hugs him again.

“Sorry. I shouldn't have taken it out on you.”

Phichit is still choking back tears, “You're mad at your client, so you took it out on me?”

“Yes, you got too close…” begins Christophe. Phichit nods. Not waiting to hear the rest, he grabs the bag and leaves.

 

Phichit is laying on the bed of his dorm room, staring at the ceiling. This sucks. After Detroit, he had promised himself no more dorm rooms. It had been marvelous to be training in Bangkok, living with his family, close to his childhood friends. With the weather getting colder, he misses the heat of Bangkok, the noise, the bustle, and especially the food. And this affair with Christophe is not going to turn into something long-term, that's clear. Yuuri's wedding has given him his relationship goal, he just needs to make it happen. Phichit sends Christophe a quick text, then puts on some nicer clothes, and goes out.

 

There are several bars and restaurants in town that cater to tourists, but _Le Tonneau_ is the unofficial gay hangout. Phichit ends up talking and flirting with a Spaniard on vacation by the name of Vicente. He's not sure how far to take this, when he sees Christophe enter the establishment. Christophe comes over, and smiles pleasantly,

“I hate to interrupt, but I'd like to have a talk.”

Phichit glances over to his dark hair companion,

“Now is not a good time,” replies Phichit.

“I'd appreciate if you'd stop by afterwards,” responds Christophe, who then wanders over to the bar and starts talking with the owner.

“Is all okay?” asks Vicente, with a concerned look. Phichit tries to shrug it off, but he finds it hard to regain the casual fun mood they shared earlier. Phichit tries to figure out why he is so irritated. If Christophe had acted with anger and jealousy, Phichit could have stormed out in righteous indignation. Actually, he is expecting his friend to express relief at the termination of their arrangement. After a few months, Christophe probably craves someone new. Meanwhile, Christophe is laughing and chatting with a group at the bar, but Phichit can tell he is being watched. Impulsively, Phichit grabs Vicente's hand, and heads out the door. Once in the street, Phichit starts walking uphill, not sure where they are going.

“You wish sex with me, make man jealous?” questions Vicente.

“Sorry. I'm not sure what I want. I just broke up with my …boyfriend, with a text! I'm the worst low life right now,” mutters Phichit, apologetically.

“ _Vale, vale._ _Entiendo_. I have idea. Just kiss?” offers Vicente.

Feeling confused, Phichit shrugs, and Vicente reaches over and gives him a light kiss tasting of wine and tobacco. “Good night,” Vicente smiles and walks away. Bemused, Phichit looks up and sees Christophe standing across the street, watching and waiting. Phichit continues to walk uphill, and motions to Christophe to follow. After a few minutes, they arrive at one of the chairlifts for the ski slope. It is the only one still lit and functioning. Christophe gets tickets and a blanket from somewhere, and they go for a ride in the cold dark air of the mountain pines.

“So is this good-natured stalking your way of getting jealous?” demands Phichit, prickly and annoyed.

“Perhaps.”

“What if I had decided to follow Vicente to his hotel room?”

“I would've asked to join you. He might have been open to a _ménage à trois._ ”

Phichit seems even more furious at that response. He sits there unmoving, unable to talk.

“Do you always send break up texts after having a fight?” asks Christophe, just as pointedly.

“Yes, when my boyfriend tries us to throw my stuff out the door,” counters Phichit. “I mean my _teacher.”_

“I'm sorry about that. That was unpardonable. But I've had time to calm down, and I've found a solution,” offers Christophe. Phichit seems unconvinced.

“I'll think about it. This teaching thing isn't working for me, I'm quitting,” announces Phichit, still angry.

“That's fine,” counters Christophe, and reaches over and holds his hand. Christophe rubs Phichit's hand soothingly, then tucks it in his pocket to keep it warm.

“You're right, we have been dating, I let you call it _teaching_ to ease my conscience,” admits Christophe.

“You know, I'm responsible for my own emotions and decisions,” counters Phichit.

They are nearing the top of the hill, and they can see the whole valley below by the light of the moon. The chairlift turns around, descending back towards the valley.

“What will happen …with the complaint? Will you go to court?” asks Phichit, tentatively.

“The manager of the Palladium called me back, and said not to worry. He convinced her she would look foolish accusing a known gay man of harassment,” explains Christophe.

“Good,” replies Phichit, sighing with relief.

They sit quietly, watching the twinkling lights in the valley slowly come closer.

“Honestly, I am unsettled by the way this thing is going,” confesses Christophe.

“I don't understand. I thought this _thing_ was… fine.”

“Phichit, how do your relationships usually go?”

“Badly. Either we're not really compatible, or they have some really disgusting habit, or they don't understand why I spend so much time figure skating…”

“And how would you characterize our …relationship?”

“Uh... easy, _most of the time_ , ...mmm, physically satisfying, fun, … you don't seem to mind my peculiarities, I'm never bored...”

“Exactly. That's what's bothering me. Nothing is wrong, and that's ….unnerving.”

 

Back at the chalet, Christophe helps him with his coat, and says,

“I want to show you my solution,” and ushers him into the bedroom. He opens up a drawer of a wooden dresser, and shows it to him. Phichit shrugs.

“An empty drawer?”

“For you. Your stuff isn't bothering me because it belongs to you, it's bothering me because it's always lying around. So I cleared space here and in the bathroom, so you can put your stuff away.”

Christophe sits on the bed, and asks,

“Will you continue to see me?”

Phichit thinks for a moment, then shakes his head.

“Sorry, no.”

“What would it take?”

“I'm not sure. For you to want me to be your boyfriend?” offers Phichit, uncertain. Christophe runs his hand through the hair on the back of his head. Then he goes and fetches something.

“I want you in my life, I want you in my house, and I want you in my bed. Here.” He hands him something small and golden.

“It looks like… a key,” Phichit dangles it in the light to see better.

“It's the key to my chalet,” explains Christophe. “And Phichit, when we fight, please talk to me before breaking up with me.”

“I'm confused. I thought you were just my teacher and we had an arrangement. Suddenly, I've had a fight with my boyfriend?”

“You're the one obsessed with labels. Call me what you will, I want you.”

Phichit feels a little lightheaded. “You want _me_?”

Christophe pulls him on top, kissing him, and caressing him. “I definitely want you.” They slowly make out, slowly undressing, till they are both naked and moaning.

“I'm going to claim you as mine,” growls Phichit, raking his nails on the other's chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I want you inside me,” says Phichit tremulously.

Christophe looks uncertain, “You won't own me if we have anal intercourse, and I'm rather… larger then you…”

“You always talk about the brain as if it's only the higher functions, but we have primal instincts as well. I need you …please,” pants Phichit.

Christophe spends an inordinate amount of time fingering, adding more lube, till Phichit is able to handle several fingers at once.

“What position? You'll have more control if you're on top, rather than missionary.”

Phichit nods his head. “ Yes, on top. Missionary sounds like you should be dressed like a priest or something…” he says, giggling.

Phichit positions himself on the tip, and Christophe holds him by the waist. He lowers himself slowly, amazed at how different it feels from a finger or toy. He sits there, impaled, luxuriating in the intensity, till he finally feels able to move. Phichit gazes into hazel eyes,

“Can you feel it? You're not taking me. I'm taking you,” commands Phichit. He moves up and down, arching his back, and feeling a wild jubilation at finally fucking the way he's always wanted to… He soon feels the pulsing inside him, as Christophe freezes and jerks backwards. Afterwards, Phichit is reeling from the intensity of his feelings, both physical and emotional. He curls up in Christophe's arms, and falls asleep, exhausted.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**November 20th, Cup of China, Beijing**

 

_P.Chulanont: going out with Yuuri tonight, yeah!_

_P.Chulanont: going out with 2 Yuris tonight, oh my…_

_P.Chulanont: 1 heartbroken Yuri, the other a nervous wreck, it's time to party!_

 

Christophe receives a photo of Phichit posing with a pole, wearing an undershirt and pink panties with _Hello Pussy_ on the backside.

 

_P.Chulanont: Wish you were here._

 

Phichit receives a text message from Christophe.

 

_C.Giacometti: Your pole dancing needs work and Katsuki is a poor teacher…_

_P.Chulanont: Katsuki is the pole dancer, not me._

_C.Giacometti: Why is he so good? I had to take lessons to get that good._

_P.Chulanont: Can't talk about it without permission. When do I get a private performance?_

 

The next morning in the hotel room, Phichit's head is pounding as he talks with Victor on Yuuri's phone, then hangs up.

–… _Shall we skate!…_ rings his phone.

– _Born to be wiiiiiild…_ rings Plisetsky's phone.

He looks around unable to find his own phone, still ringing. Plisetsky picks Yuuri off the floor, and lays him on the bed next to Phichit. Plisetsky notices his own phone on the floor, and answers it,

“Hey. I know. Thanks, bye.” Plisetsky feels a bump on his left hip, finds Phichit's phone, and hands it to him. “I'm taking a shower.”

–… _Shall we skate!…_

“Hangover Central, hello?” croaks Phichit.

“I'm glad you're awake. Victor is terribly worried he might have to spend an extra hour without his husband,” Christophe ribs good humoredly.

“My head hurts, would you please rub it?” pleads Phichit.

“Sure. I can't believe I'm missing seeing you grumpy, and hung over. Next time you travel, I'm going with you. See you tonight.”

 

**December 9th, Marseille, France**

 

Phichit is practicing his short program at the Palais Omnisport. Stéphane seems content, and waves him off the ice. Phichit hears his phone,

… _Shall we skate!…_

“I was thinking of joining you in your hotel room, if that's agreeable with you,” suggests Christophe.

“Where are you?” Phichit looks around.

“In the bleachers, near the south side exit sign.” Phichit finally spots Christophe.

“I'll grab my things.” Phichit feels a sudden surge of giddiness.

 

Phichit opens his hotel room, and puts his stuff away.

“Do you mind hanging out while I take a shower?”

Christophe nods agreeably, and lies on the bed. He turns on the TV, but he still hears Phichit singing in the shower. Then he hears the sound of a blow dryer, and possibly other shaving equipment. Christophe checks his watch: definitely one of the slowest people on the planet. When Phichit finally emerges, he is wearing a silvery black top, black dress pants, eyeliner and… glitter eyeshadow.

“Where are we going?” questions Phichit.

“We're taking a boat to a small island nearby, with a castle.”

 

They head down to the port, and board a small ferryboat. A small distance away, the boat cruises toward a small rocky island with the medieval stone fortress. Big rounded towers loom up above them. They climb a stone staircase, arrive at a grassy middle area, then visit the medieval dungeon.

“Château d'If is the location for the _Count of Monte Cristo_ , the famous novel of a man falsely imprisoned, who escapes, discovers treasure, and exacts revenge.”

“These manacles need pink fur, so we can bondage play in a real dungeon,” remarks Phichit, his eyes twinkling mischievously, running his fingers on the stone walls.

“Tempting, I might need to overtip the tour guide. Let's go up the ramparts, the view is amazing.”

The wind is gusting pretty hard, but the day is clear and sunny, and they can see the city of Marseille sloping uphill, and sailboats on the Mediterranean. Christophe pulls Phichit into a hug to keep warm.

 

Once back on shore, they eat at a restaurant by the water called  _Le Coq au Vin._

“This is the first time you've taken me on a real date,” remarks Phichit.

“You're right, I should take you out in Champéry.”

“I'm glad you're willing to go out, instead of staying in.”

“You think because of all the sex, I'm not interested in anything else?” clarifies Christophe.

“Precisely. I want to remind you that I'm more than a piece of ass,” asserts Phichit.

“Actually, your eyes are my favorite part…” Christophe smiles, and reaches over the table to hold his hand.

 

They walk by edge of the Mediterranean. Phichit stops to look out at the sea, and Christophe stands next to him, places an arm around his back, and tilts him back a bit and kisses him.

“You're the only one who could pull off such a corny move,” declares Phichit, still amazed at being romanced in public.

“You adore when I do romantic things, you get a bit pink in the cheeks.” Christophe takes Phichit hand again, and they start to walk along the beach.

“Thank you,” beams Phichit, squeezing their hands.

“For what?”

“For making me feel like… I'm the most precious person in the world.”

“You expect something else?”

“Well, actually with you, I never know what to expect.”

 

**December 10th, Grand Prix Final, Marseille**

 

Phichit has performed his short program, and Stéphane and Phichit are watching the final skating performance of the day. Phichit receives an email from Yuuri.

 

_Baby was born about an hour ago. Healthy, 7.2 pounds, girl named Mariko Katsuki-Nikiforov._

 

Attached is a photo of a tiny gorgeous angel, with a tuft of black hair. Also attached is a video of Victor performing a water inspired choreography for the ice show. Phichit barely looks at the video, and stares for several minutes at the newborn picture.

 

Christophe finds Phichit in the hotel room, engrossed on his laptop.

“Shall I take you out to dinner?”asks Christophe, hugging him from behind.

“Mmm, room service will be fine,” Phichit replies, typing away on his keyboard.

“So you prefer to update your social media than spend time with me?” complains Christophe.

“No, I'm just doing some research on adoption. I read some terrible stories about Thai women being imprisoned and mistreated as surrogates. Do you want kids?”

“No, not really,” replies Christophe, taken aback.

“I do. I'm just hoping a single man can adopt a Thai baby, I wonder if my parents could help me…”

Christophe remembers the newborn announcement Victor had sent earlier, and realizes the futility of distracting Phichit from his quest. Christophe gets out his own computer, and does some writing.

 

**December 11th, Grand Prix Final, Marseille, France**

 

Christophe leaves the hotel room, and runs into Otabek leaving the room next door. They both head out to the elevator, and walk over to the ice rink. As they find their seats to watch the competition, they realize their seats are next to each other. Christophe inquires,

“Katsuki gave me this ticket, it was for his sister?”

“Yes, for Mari and Minako,” clarifies Otabek. “They decided not to come.”

“Are you and Plisetsky finally dating?”

“Why finally?” demands Otabek.

“There's been rumors about you two for years,” informs Christophe.

“I don't listen to rumors.”

“Sparks flew when you met each other, though not as dramatically as when Victor and Yuuri met…” adds Christophe.

“So how is _your_ relationship with Phichit?” counters Otabek.

“Mmm, …” Christophe says noncommittally. “His checklist might be different from mine.”

“He certainly sounded like he was having a good time last night,” insinuates Otabek. “I imagine you too would talk each other to death.”

Christophe smiles at that jab. “We definitely chat incessantly on the phone, but he actually calms down a lot when he's alone with me. And doesn't he have one silver, and one gold in this Grand Prix series?” remarks Christophe, knowing full well that Plisetsky has two silvers.

“Plisetsky is taking the gold.”

“Plisetsky's been technically inconsistent, Phichit is more dependable, and his PCS points on the free program are sky high.”

Otabek remains silent, and they watch the skaters take the ice for the six minute warm-up. Suddenly Otabek comments on their previous conversation,

“I've seen Phichit's parents and the three siblings, all very healthy and happy. He's not just trying to check off a list, he wants a loving family.”

 

Morooka announces, “ _... and after tabulating the scores, the gold medal goes to Yuri Plisetsky, from Russia. An amazing comeback after a difficult season last year. That gives Phichit Chulanont the silver medal, the best he's ever done in a Grand Prix series,…”_

 

Otabek puts out an open hand. Christophe purses his lips, and hands Otabek a euro note.

 

**December 22th, Champéry**

 

Christophe is packing a bag, and calls Phichit.

“I'm going to Lausanne for a few days, would you like me to bring back something?”

“I would love some rice noodles, if you could find curry, and ginger root. I don't suppose you'd find mangoes? Maybe I should come with you.”

“Actually, I usually stay with Florian, so I don't have to pay for a hotel. Would you take care of Minette?”

“Oh. ...Yes, I'll feed her.”

 

Phichit is practicing his short program on the ice, and Stéphane Lambiel is watching on the side.

“More energy please. And for some reason you're flipping to the outside edge when you need to be on the inside one for that move,” corrects Stéphane impatiently.

Christophe arrives, watches for a moment, then waves goodbye to Phichit. Phichit barely acknowledges him.

“I have a train to catch, ” he finally calls out, and leaves.

Phichit skates up to his coach. Stéphane watches the interaction, then asks pleasantly,

“Do you need time off as well to go cruising? Lausanne has some nice places, Christophe could show you.”

“No thanks. I'd rather practice,” Phichit curtly replies.

 

**December 22th, Lausanne, Switzerland**

 

Once in Lausanne, Christophe finds an Asian food store, and buys several items on the list. Then he heads to Florian's, drops off his luggage and groceries. Then he changes into some fancier clothes for the evening. Christophe and Florian head to _Le Jeté_ , their favorite gay bar. They split up and talk to various men. The walls are purple, with pops of color from modern art pieces, and bright red seats around the bar. Christophe dances with a few prospects, then heads to a back corner downstairs with a tall blonde. Florian surreptitiously follows, watches them make out for a bit, but Christophe soon gives up, and returns to get a drink.

“I saw that. What's happening with you?” questions Florian.

“I've been cursed,” Christophe replies sullenly.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Never mind.” Christophe looks around the bar longingly, like a dieter staring at a assortment of cakes. He takes out his phone, and texts,

 

_C.Giacometti: my parents are having Christmas eve dinner, will you come?_

_P.Chulanont: Lausanne? What about cat?_

_C.Giacometti: leave enough food for 2 days, we'll be back late on the 24 th._

_P.Chulanont: all right. Meet me at the Lausanne station tomorrow._

 

**December 24th, Lausanne, Switzerland**

 

Phichit looks around the small but elegant flat near the center of the city. He is sitting at dinner with Christophe's mother and father. There is a strong family resemblance. The father is quietly eating a slice of roast beef, but the mother has been chatting nonstop in French. Phichit has been learning French since moving to Champéry, but all he can understand is that she talks incessantly about Florian. Judging by her facial expressions, her attitude towards Florian is very positive. However, Christophe is becoming more and more silent, till he seems quietly furious.

“Fabienne, if you like him so much, _you_ should date him,” suddenly utters the father, in a strongly accented English. The mother looks upset, and says nothing for the rest of the meal. Phichit looks up at Christophe, who simply reaches over and holds his hand, then continues to eat.

 

As Phichit and Christophe are leaving, the father says in French,

“ _Fiston, il faut que tu pardonnes ta mère, elle a seulement peur que tu partes en Thaïlande..._ ”

Once outside, Phichit asks,

“That was uncomfortable. Why did you bring me? It seems your mother would have preferred a visit from Florian.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know she would react that way. I just wanted to show you around Lausanne.”

“I enjoyed the sightseeing. Especially the palace…” Phichit stumbles on the French name.

“ _Le_ _Palais de Rumine_. Yes, the main hall with the colonnade is stunning.”

They walk quietly to the train station.

“Christophe,…what did your father say?”

“Please forgive your mother, she is worried about you leaving Switzerland.”

 

A few days later, Phichit is cleaning his dorm room, and wondering where his favorite sweater went. It must be over at the chalet. His phone rings.

“You shouldn't come over, I've got a bad head cold,” croaks Christophe, then coughs.

“Don't worry, I don't get sick. I'll be over soon with some ginger.”

Christophe is crashed on the couch, wearing his bathrobe, and surrounded by used tissues and cold medication boxes. The white cat is on top of him, meowing annoyed. Phichit puts on some water to boil, cleans up the living room, and feeds the cat. Soon Phichit presents a mug of steaming tea, and a bowl of white goo.

“What's this?” grumbles Christophe. “I don't like being fussed over.”

“Rice porridge, and ginger tea. You're one of those unpleasant sick people, aren't you? Well, you're pretty easy the rest of the time. Drink some tea and I'll rub your head.”

Christophe reluctantly drinks, then Phichit sits down on the couch with Christophe's head in his lap. He does some pressure points on the forehead and around the nose. Christophe begins to snore. His blond hair is sticking up at weird angles, his nose is red and splotchy, and there are bits of tissue paper stuck in the stubble of his beard. As Phichit caresses the blond hair, he feels an overwhelming tender emotion, and he suddenly realizes what it means.

“Oh no, this is bad!” He blurts out loud.

Startled, Christophe wakes up, and sniffles, “What's wrong?” and looks around the living room.

“I'm in love...I'm in the living room, I should clean the kitchen.” Phichit stands up so suddenly, Christophe's head smacks the end of the couch.

“Aie! You're supposed to be taking care of me…” whines Christophe, rubbing his head. Phichit heads to the kitchen, and wipes the counters with a rag.

“Go with the flow, indeed,” Phichit mutters, furiously scrubbing. “What do I do now?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

January, Champéry, Switzerland

 

Phichit has been training nonstop, even more determined after placing second in the Grand Prix final. He has a good chance of winning gold at the Four Continents competition, since Otabek won't be competing there. He hasn't seen Christophe much, so he decides to double back to the ice rink, and wave hello during the private lesson. He watches the rink, as Christophe teaches and flirts in his usual manner with his client. Phichit grinds his teeth together, and leaves, irate.

 

Phichit is typing on his laptop on his side of the dorm room, when Pascal tells him he has a visitor. Phichit goes down, and finds Christophe waiting for him outside.

“You haven't called, or texted in a week. That always means something is wrong.”

Phichit stomps down a snowy path, feeling frustrated.

“Are we having a fight?” adds Christophe.

“I don't think I can… be with you anymore. I'm losing my ability to be detached. Either we are exclusive, or I need to stop seeing you,” decides Phichit.

Christophe's face gets very pale, and on seeing the reaction, Phichit feels his heart sink.

“Why do you want me?” quizzes Christophe with a attempt at levity. “I'm just a tired old skater, living a lazy life of flirting and selfish pursuits.”

Phichit refuses to be amused.

“The look on your face right now is exactly why didn't ask anything of you. I'm usually very possessive, and I've been wanting to say something but… I knew I'd probably lose you. It's easy for me to ignore you flirting with your women clients, but seeing you flirt with that young man… was too much.”

Christophe is standing, frozen, but he finally motions to continue walking.

“I don't like commitment. People change, or they cheat. Why make promises no one can keep? Even if two people stay together and in love, one day, one of them will get sick and die. Maybe it's better to be alone.”

Phichit reacts explosively to these words.

“Life is short! Nothing in this world lasts, not the people, not animals, even civilizations die!” Phichit picks up a ball of snow. “I was ten when a giant tsunami hit Thailand. More than 5000 people died. For the people that lost their loved ones, they aren't thinking I should have stayed alone. They're wishing they spent more time with them.” Phichit crushes the snowball, and looks straight at Christophe.

“You knew that figure skating is a short, difficult path, why did you do it?”

“Because I loved it so much.” Christophe walks over next to Phichit.

Phichit takes a deep breath, and makes the motions of preparing to jump. Christophe stops, and watches. Phichit backs up, leaps up, spins and lands on one boot in the snow.

“I've never been afraid to jump. I've crashed a lot but, I just get up again. Christophe, I'm not expecting an answer, or a reply, basically I'm not expecting anything. I'm just jumping in the air,” insists Phichit.

“All right,” acknowledges Christophe, puzzled.

“I don't care what work you do, I don't care if you're never rich, or how many scars you have. I like that you're kind, caring, and smart. And most of all, I want you to be happy. In other words, I'm in love with you,” declares Phichit, taking another run, and doing another jump.

Christophe walks closer, and opens his arms.

“Is it safe to hug you yet?” questions Christophe. Phichit shakes his head no.

“I told you. Exclusive or we're done.”

“Ah. One of us has to compromise, and you're not going to…”

Christophe sighs and continues,

“I will not see anyone else without your permission. Is that satisfactory?”

“My permission? Meaning if we both agree, you could …oh, or we could …oh,” stutters Phichit.

“Just keep an open mind.”

“I don't understand. Isn't this the point where you lecture me about how you're a free spirit and you never make commitments?” grumbles Phichit, hugging himself.

“I'm a free spirit, therefore I'm free to commit if I want to…”

Phichit walks forward until he bumps into Christophe, who enfolds him in his arms.

 

Lausanne, Switzerland

 

Christophe and Phichit are sitting on red stools at the gay bar, Le Jeté.

“I'm not doing a threesome,” mutters Phichit, his arms crossed stubbornly.

“That's not what I asked. Keep an open mind. Do you find anyone attractive?” asks Christophe.

Phichit looks around, and gestures towards a short dark haired guy.

“Of course.” Christophe sighs. Phichit always prefers guys who resemble Yuuri.

“Ask him to dance,” requests Christophe, earnestly. Phichit shrugs. He dances a bit with the dark-haired guy, then chats a moment. He comes back alone.

“He asked me to a hotel. I said no.”

“Okay. It means a lot to me that you tried,” smiles Christophe.

“Are you going to pick up a guy?” questions Phichit sullenly.

“Mmm, yes. Cutest one here.” Christophe takes Phichit's hand, and leads him to the dance floor.

 

Champéry, Switzerland

 

A week before the European championship, Phichit arrives at Christophe's house. He sees through the front window Florian draped over Christophe on the couch, excitedly showing him something on his laptop. Phichit lets himself in, only to overhear Florian excitedly announce,

“I've never been to Ostrava in the Czech Republic, I bought two plane tickets, and we'll watch some wonderful ice-skating and go visit the town! I hear Yuri Plisetsky is amazing to see, so sexy…I want his autograph.”

Stunned and unable to cope, Phichit walks back out, slams the door, and runs back to his room.

 

January 28th, European Championship, Ostrava, Czech Republic

 

Christophe and Florian arrive at their hotel room in Ostrava, and unpack their bags.

“I appreciate your company, but it doesn't feel like you really want to be here. What are you running from?” questions Florian.

“What do you mean running from?”

“I'm well aware that our romance has truly ended. You're not here to see me, but to escape from someone else. I'm guessing that little Thai skater. Stéphane was talking about doing an ice show with him.”

“Phichit is… a friend.”

“Is that so? Out of curiosity, who is the first person you think of when you wake up, and who's the last person you think about when you go to sleep?”

“Myself. I am very egocentric and hedonistic.”

Florian laughs.

“You used to be. But be careful, mon beau, I'm afraid you might be growing a heart.” Florian reaches in his wallet, and pulls out a business card.

“Stop avoiding your problem. Make an appointment. He's the best.”

Christophe looks at the card, and groans.

 

Dr Vincent Cloutier

Urologue/Urologist

+41 21 310 50 00

 

 

Champéry, Switzerland

 

Phichit opens the door to Christophe's chalet, and the white cat jumps down, and meows at him disappointed.

“I know, I know. I'm going to feed you. Neither Christophe nor Florian will be here for a few days, no need to meow to me about it…”

After eating, Minette comes to settle in his lap on the couch. Phichit complains to the cat,

“I'm an idiot! I told that playboy I'm in love with him, and that I'm not expecting anything of him. Of course I'm expecting something! I want him to say,” Phichit continues in a fake French accent “– chéri, I'm madly in love wiz you, marry me tonight…”.

…Shall we skate!… interrupts his phone.

“Hello. I wasn't sure if …you were still talking to me,” says Christophe.

“Christophe, I'm an adult. I can handle this. I'm a bit jealous, but I will suck it up. Have a great time.”

Phichit hangs up.

 

Phichit returns to be alone in his dorm room. Some of his fellow Swiss skaters are competing, the rest have left by train to Ostrava. Phichit wants to call Yuuri, but he hasn't told him anything of his romantic life since coming to Switzerland. Plus, Yuuri is overwhelmed with the new baby and coaching Plisetsky. Feeling desperate, he dials someone else,

“Plisetsky?”

“Yeah, what?” replies Plisetsky.

“A month ago, you said you were feeling crazy about somebody…” begins Phichit.

“Yeah.”

“I'm losing it. This guy I'm seeing left with his ex to go to Ostrava.”

“He's cheating?”

“No but,…”

“No but sounds like a yes.”

“He's not planning to cheat, but maybe spending time with his old flame would rekindle… their fire and he'll realize his mistake and dump me.”

“Want me to keep an eye on him?”

“Yes. No. That wouldn't be right.”

“Chulanont, I don't do wishy-washy crap. Who am I watching?”

“Christophe.”

“Giacometti!? Whoa. Since when have you two been...oh, fuck that, nevermind,” grumbles Plisetsky.

But Phichit, having concealed the situation from his friends, suddenly gives a rambling edition of the whole story,

“It started at the wedding,…”

 

Monday night after the weekend, Phichit is at a local bar, slumped next to his roommate Pascal, the blonde teenager. A familiar brown haired man comes up to him.

“Phichit? I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced, I'm Florian Jeanneret.” He sticks out his hand for a handshake. Phichit shakes it reluctantly, then looks him directly in the eyes and asks,

“Are you trying to get him back?”

“You mean Christophe? No, not anymore. It was simply a trip between two friends. But, Christo has been annoyingly unwilling to talk about you. May I join you?”

Phichit reluctantly nods yes. Florian orders a red wine.

“You two have been dating?” questions Florian.

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

Phichit rubs his forehead, then counts on his fingers, “Maybe 6 or 7 months?” He's not sure if those first months count, but doesn't want to discuss that with Florian.

“Ah! So a few days ago when you walked in on us at Christophe's chalet, you were jealous to see me with him?” asks Florian.

“Yes. I overreacted. The timing was bad, we had just had a fight about being exclusive,” explains Phichit, apologetically.

“And Christo wouldn't commit to you,” Florian commiserates with him.

“Actually he did. We are only seeing each other,” corrects Phichit, defensively.

“Really? Also that night at the chalet, the door was locked. How did you enter?”

“I have a key.”

“Espèce de salopard, d'emplatré! Couillard!” rages Florian.

“What?”

Florian searches for words, then mutters, “Jerk.” And takes a big swig of his wine, then rants,

“He never really committed to me, not in his …nature! He refused to give me a key, until he got a cat! Then he reluctantly gave me a key to take care of her. I worked so hard at making him a decent boyfriend…” Florian shakes his head, “Ah well, c'est la vie, non?”

Phichit frowns. “I'm not trying to change him.”

Florian smiles at that. He pats Phichit's hand,

“Of course, of course. He doesn't let himself be vulnerable to many people, but he's very caring and loyal to his inner circle. Such a wonderful lover, as unfortunately too many people know!”

 

Meanwhile, Christophe has gone in search of Phichit. First, he visits the dorm room near the Palladium, then he check several bars in the village. He checks his phone again for messages, then realizing how late in the evening it is, he heads back home. He opens the side door to his chalet, relieved to see Phichit's boots in the entryway. Minette runs over and meows. Then he sees on the floor a pair of socks, some pants, then as he follows the little hallway, he sees a shirt and blue satin underpants with snowmen on them.

“Phichit?” One little lamp is on, and Phichit is already under the covers. Christophe quickly undresses, and snuggles in next to him.

“Do we need to talk?” questions Christophe.

“No. We need to sleep,” replies a groggy Phichit, feeling all his anxiety disappear on feeling the warm presence. Christophe sighs in relief, and kisses him on the head.


	8. Chapter 8

**February 14** **th** , **Champéry, Switzerland**

 

Christophe walks into his home, places his keys, and taking off his outerwear, notices Phichit's boots and coat in the front closet. He walks through the living room, and then sees a huge mess in the kitchen. Pots, pans and assorted dirty dishes fill the sink. There is a big pot of gloopy brown stuff on the stove, as well as gloopy brown stuff all over the counter. It also looks like someone destroyed a shrub, leaving leaves and stems everywhere. Christophe checks the bedroom next, and discovers some rose petals and more brown goop on the bedspread. He knocks on the bathroom door.

“Phichit? _Mon choux_ , open the door please.”

He hears some muffled sobs, then the door opens slowly. Phichit is wearing his big white terrycloth bathrobe, his eye makeup look like two black eyes, and his hands are covered in bandages.

“It looks like you were preparing a very special birthday surprise.”

Phichit sniffles.

“I've always wanted to do something clichéd and romantic. But everything went wrong!”

Christophe picks Phichit up by the waist, then sits him on the counter. He picks up a cotton pad and some makeup remover, and fixes Phichit's eye makeup.

“Tell me what happened,” and he dabs and removes some of the black.

“I told the florist I needed rose petals, so they didn't bother removing the thorns on the stems. That's why my hands are full of cuts. And I tried to make chocolates, but it turned into a lumpy paste. I still tried to put some on my belly, but it has melted and stuck to the rose petals.”

Christophe takes a little mirror, and shows Phichit his eyes.

“Beautiful cat eyes, just as you like. Now, would you open your robe?”

Phichit nods reluctantly, and opens the robe to reveal a sticky torso of brown goop and petals, and also an ill fitting women's lingerie in red satin. He looks about to cry again.

“Mmm, you didn't tell me about this part of the surprise.” Christophe gets a washcloth, and removes most of the chocolate.

“Do you mind if I adjust the straps?” asks Christophe, gently. Phichit shakes his head. He fiddles with the straps till the cups lay flat on the chest more comfortably.

“Believe it or not, no one's ever made such a charming effort for me before,” murmurs Christophe.

“You mean no one's ever made such an unbelievable mess before?” retorts Phichit. “In the movies, they do romantic things all the time, and it looks effortless. At least you're lucky I didn't try to decorate with candles, I would've burned your house down!” wails Phichit.

Christophe giggles, then Phichit starts to giggle, and finally they both laugh together. After a while, Phichit is on the verge of tears again, touched at the tender care…. Christophe delicately wipes Phichit's eyes, then caresses his cheeks, and slowly trails his fingers down his throat. He slowly opens the white robe, and starts kissing and licking around Phichit's chest.

“The chocolate tastes fine…” Christophe says in a deep sultry voice. “And you taste even better…”

Christophe finishes off the chocolate, then kisses Phichit with chocolate flavored lips.

“What mood are you in? Feel like ordering me around?” asks Christophe.

“Gentle and romantic, would that be okay?” Phichit requests, almost pleading for more affection.

Christophe picks him up, places him on the bed, and lies next to him. He slowly removes the bathrobe, kissing newly exposed skin, then un-hooks the bra, and slowly drags it away. Finally he pulls down the red satin underwear, slowly dropping light kisses. Phichit fully expects some oral attention, but instead Christophe drapes a sheet around him. Phichit looks up quizzically, Christophe replies to the unspoken question,

“I want you to feel warm and protected.”

Christophe holds him tenderly, placing light kisses on his forehead and cheeks.

“You're so sweet, beautiful, have the most amazing heart. I'm so… glad we're together.”

Overwhelmed, Phichit closes his eyes.

“Mmm, open your eyes, _mon coeur_ …”

Phichit looks into Christophe's eyes, an odd color, not green, not brown. Christophe gently caresses his face, and cradles his head like he's incredibly precious, then kisses his lips softly. Christophe puts lube on one of his fingers, Phichit nods his head, enjoying Christophe's hand loosening him up. Soon pitch it gets more lube, applies it to Christophe's erection, feeling aroused and ready. Phichit feels Christophe slowly move inside him, then with more intensity, and gazes at him till he feels he's drowning in those eyes – and for a moment, there's a connection, a deep feeling that seems to crackle between them – then they both explode in pleasure, and lie together, unmoving. Phichit barely moves or breathes, trying not to break the spell. Eventually, Christophe takes a deep breath, and wraps them both in the sheet. Phichit grabs one of Christophe's arms, holding on like he's drowning, until he falls asleep.

 

The next day at the ice rink, Phichit can barely focus on his routine. Could Christophe make love like that and ...not be in love? As long as they are touching, Phichit feels warm, content and …loved. But when they are apart, not hearing any confessions of feelings by Christophe is making him feel more and more desolate, and empty inside.

 

**February 17,** **Four** **Continent Championship, Gangneung, South Korea**

 

Phichit finishes his short program performance, and skates back to the kiss and cry. Stéphane greets him, and once he receives the scores, he realizes he's in second place behind Seung Gil. Seung Gil walks directly to Phichit, and says without a greeting,

“Have dinner with me.” Seung Gil's face is expressionless.

“I'm sorry, what?” responds Phichit, surprised.

“There's a good Korean restaurant nearby,” adds Seung Gil.

Phichit nods, and sees Leo and Guang Hong.

“Since we're in Korea, Seung Gil is taking us to dinner, meet in the lobby in an hour.”

The four of them walk a few blocks to the small restaurant, and Seung Gil orders in Korean directly to the owner. Soon the middle-aged woman brings out two dozen little metal bowls filled with an assorted sample of pickled vegetables, seasoned meats and tofu. Guang Hong fills his plate with lots of food, and says cheerfully,

“Congratulation on your short programs. And thank you for the food!”

Meanwhile, Leo has been watching Phichit with a concerned look.

“You've been down lately, barely talking to us. Are you sure everything's all right in Switzerland?”

Phichit looks around the table, debating how much to reveal.

“The thing is when… one is in a relationship, sometimes… one needs to be overtly told _I love you_ or given a grand gesture, a demonstration of feeling,” declares Phichit, looking at Leo, then glancing quickly at  Seung Gil for a moment. Leo understands the dilemma, and asks,

“Yes, I agree. I definitely need emotional commitment from my partner, or it feels like it never goes anywhere.” Leo thinks for a moment, “But, uh, you would like some emotional commitment?”

“Definitely. But I'm not expecting it, it would take a miracle!”

 

Despite his personal feelings, Phichit's love of skating completely takes over for his free program, and his high scores make him surpass Seung Gil. Later in the evening, Phichit is standing at the top of the podium wearing his gold medal, Seung Gil is to his right, wearing silver. With the crowd cheering, and the photographers all around them, Phichit turns to shake hands with Seung Gil. Suddenly Seung Gil tugs on his hand, pulling Phichit forward, and plants a kiss on Phichit's lips. Surprised, Phichit pushes back and they both go tumbling backwards off the podium. The cameras click, buzz, and flash all around them, and within seconds, the video is posted online.

 

Christophe is sitting on his couch at home, watching the live stream from Korea. He's glad that Phichit performed so well, though it still feels odd to see the skating world continue on without him. He is about to shut his computer down, when he sees the podium kerfuffle. Christophe feels a weird jolt in his chest. The feeling surprises him. A little flash of… jealousy? Which is ridiculous. He's never been the possessive type, and Phichit always complained Seung Gil was difficult and cold. Christophe finds a video of the podium moment, and replays it, pausing on Phichit's face as he gets kissed. With his eyes wide and shock all over his face, the freeze frame is comical. He downloads a screenshot and adds it to his folder of Phichit photos. He clicks through the different images. Phichit with Yuuri, Phichit skating, Phichit and him in front of a cow, Phichit pole dancing, and a few selfies from his blog. There is an addicting quality to the sunshine that seems to pour out of him. He clicks on his personal journal, and types away for awhile, then frustrated picks up his phone.

 

“Victor, how did you know Yuuri was the one?”

“I had been courting him a while, and we talked about a lot of things, but it was the first night we spent...kissing. I felt some very strong and powerful emotions. I cannot verbally communicate the connection any better…” apologizes Victor. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm overwhelmed. I feel like I've inadvertently boarded a train, and I'm speeding down the tracks unable to change course…”

“And I've been focused on my adorable baby girl, and I haven't been calling you. I assume we're talking about Phichit, no?”

“Indeed. We've been dating for a while now, and he wants the the whole romantic relationship, love-marriage-baby. I don't know if I can give that to him.”

“True, monogamy has never been your style, and you're never around children. Doesn't Stéphane have a kids' school? I really enjoyed teaching small children how to skate, maybe you should try it?” offers Victor, then a baby cries in the background.

“ _Oh la la,_ I'm cringing at the idea of teaching summer camps,” moans Christophe.

“Well… imagine Phichit happily married, with a baby, to _someone else_. How does that feel?”

A baby cries again on Victor's end of the phone.

“Sounds like you're busy, we'll talk later. _Au revoir._ ”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**March, Champéry**

 

Phichit arrives at the Palladium ice rink around 10 p.m. The arena is dark, except for a spotlight in the middle of the ice, and dozens of little flickering lights on the board surrounding the ice. As he gets closer, he picks one up, and sees a plastic LED candles. A song begins to play, a slow piano ballad, with the words in French. Christophe is wearing black slacks, and an open white shirt. He skates with a single pink rose, twisting and turning, as if dancing with an imaginary lover. Phichit watches, entranced. He'd forgotten his friend was such an amazing skater.

 

In the final move, Christophe bends down on one knee sliding across the ice and arriving right in front of Phichit. Christophe hands him the flower,

“I'm in love with you.”

Phichit takes the flower, and and realizes his face is wet from tears.

“I love you too, I thought you'd never feel that way...”

“I'm sorry I took so long. I wanted to make sure, I needed to know that we're right for each other.”

Christophe leans over, raises him over the baseboard, and holds him in his arms. ”

 

**Lausanne, Switzerland**

 

Christophe and Phichit are once again sitting on stools at the gay bar, _Le Jeté_. Christophe orders some drinks, and asks,

“Why are we here?”

“I promised myself that I wouldn't …change you. I know you have needs that I don't. So ...choose someone, kissing and oral ok, no penetration,” instructs Phichit.

Christophe stares at him, deciding what to do. The bartender gives them both a cocktail. Christophe takes a sip.

“All right. On one condition,” adds Christophe.

“What's that?”

“Find a scenario that turns you on. I'm not interested if this hurts or upsets you. I want you to enjoy this too. If you say stop, I'll stop. How about …”

 

Christophe goes to chat with a cute brunette with glasses. Glasses nods, and they head downstairs to a dark corner of the club. Phichit counts to twenty, then follows. There are several couples making out, and Christophe and Glasses are rubbing against each other, Glasses grinding into Christophe's ass. Feeling completely awkward, Phichit gulps, wanting to say _stop_ right away. But then he notices how the tall Swiss is acting. Performing really. Christophe is not really focused on Glasses, he's watching Phichit. Phichit makes a hand gesture, and Christophe unzips Glasses pants and strokes him. The moment the guy cums, Christophe waves goodbye, and drags Phichit out of the club, walking down the block.

“Why did I have to watch?” demands Phichit.

“Because in your imagination, you would have built that into a jealous nightmare. Did any of that turn you on?”

“I like the fact that you didn't seem into him, he was like a toy.”

“Exactly. That guy was like a dildo, not important to me. That's why you don't ever have to do that again, if you don't want.”

Christophe enters a hotel lobby, gets a room, and ushers Phichit into a cozy room. Christophe gives him a kiss, but Phichit ignores the come on, and asks,

“Why did you leave before the other guy …reciprocated?”

“I really wanted your mouth on me, and I didn't think you'd want to do that in a club,” explains Christophe, trying to distract Phichit with kisses. Phichit giggles, then starts to laugh, finally laying down on the bed, unable to stop laughing. Christophe frowns.

“What's so funny?”

“Until I met you, blow jobs in the back of clubs was most of my sex life, I don't have a problem with _that_!” explains Phichit, still laughing. Christophe smiles, and climbs on top of him, and nibbles on his ears.

“I'd forgotten about that. Maybe instead of threesomes, we should try public places. Kiss me,” begs Christophe. Phichit looks at him, trying to decide.

“Are you this horny because you got to rub on that guy?”

“No. I'm this horny because _you_ watched me,” replies Christophe, looking him straight in the eye.

“Damn, I still feel annoyed, but it was also kind of hot…” confesses Phichit, pulling him in for a open mouth kiss.

 

**End of March, Champéry**

 

Christophe is writing once again at his computer, he's been on a roll lately. Phichit interrupts,

“After Helsinki, I'm going back to Bangkok.”

“Okay,” replies Christophe not looking up.

There's a long silence.

“One moment, I want to finish editing the Sochi banquet scene. Victor still asks where I got the pole, I keep refusing to tell him…It will be good for you to spend time with your family,” finally replies Christophe, distracted.

“Is that all? No wonder Florian left you.” Phichit gathers his things, prepares to leave the house, then plops it all back down, “I usually disappear for a week, and don't talk to you but…”

Christophe quickly closes his laptop, and looks at him attentively,

“Are we having a disagreement? About what?”

“I'm leaving, you're not reacting, I'm not sure what's going to happen…” articulates Phichit.

“Oh. Since you're still competing, your career comes first. Have you found a coach?”

“That's the problem with Bangkok, I haven't found a top-level coach willing to move there.”

“I'm expecting we'll have a long-distance relationship. Not my favorite situation, but I suppose we can work on our phone sex,” says Christophe.

Phichit folds his arms across his chest,

“That sounds reasonable, but feels …emotionally unsatisfying. I'm confused. I thought I'd fallen for some emotionally unavailable playboy with commitment phobia. But each time I'm at my breaking point and I push the issue, you give in.”

Christophe nods, and begins,

“Two years ago, Victor told me that he and Yuuri would be retiring after the Grand Prix final, which meant they would not be attending the World Championship in Boston. That was my last shot to win gold, and I trained as hard as I could. But instead of being my final year of victory, the doctors told me my back injury was so bad, I could permanently become disabled. I had surgery, and ended up on my stomach for days, and needing help for about a month. Florian moved back in, and took care of me, he really enjoyed becoming my caretaker. On the other hand, I realized our relationship was never going to work, and I needed to find happiness by being by myself.”

“I don't see the connection...”

“Florian used to pressure me for commitment, but that's not all he wanted. He wanted me to move to Lausanne, he wanted me to get a corporate job, he wanted me to wear suits, he wanted me to go to dinner parties with fancy people…When we first started to date, I didn't want all that pressure again. But I'm realizing a commitment to you is different, for the most part you accept me as I am.”

“So you wanted to keep me at a distance. And I pursued you anyway, against my better judgment. You're lucky you're good in bed, otherwise you wouldn't have me at all,”mutters Phichit.

Christophe joins him on the couch, and wraps his arms around him.

Then he murmurs,

“Very lucky. I'll miss you very much. I've already bought a ticket for a week in Bangkok, during your birthday.”

 

**April 1st, World Skating Championship, Helsinki, Finland**

 

Phichit spotsYuuri in the lobby of the training rink. He runs excitedly over, and gives Yuuri a big hug. Plisetsky follows, holding a bag, and Phichit forces a hug on him too. Plisetsky looks down, winces, and puts up with it.

“Yuuri, how's the baby? I can't wait to meet her.”

“Riko-chan is a wonderful baby, and I'm almost done coaching, and I didn't know I could be so… happy. I can't believe how much I love my family. So are you finallygoing to tell me about … your love life?”

“How much do you know?” asks Phichit, embarrassed.

“I've heard rumors, but I want to hear it from you,” responds Yuuri, reassuringly.

“Yuuri, I did the craziest thing… I pursued Christophe, and moved to Switzerland, and fell in love…” begins Phichit. Plisetsky rolls his eyes.

“Crap, not this again. I'm going to find Otabek.” Plisetsky leaves the two alone to talk.

 

Later that night, Phichit calls Christophe, and relates the conversation.

“Why did you wait so long to confide in him?” questions Christophe, curious.

Phichit ashamed, stays silent for a minute.

“I couldn't stand to hear any more of his perfect Victor, his perfect baby, his perfect life. Chris, I let envy take over, but I'm fine now. I should have leaned on him, he's stronger than he seems.”

 

**April 2nd, World Skating Championship, Helsinki, Finland**

 

Morooka announces,

 

“ _We have mostly seen this Thai skater as a joyful and upbeat entertainer, but tonight's silver medalist will be performing something a little different for the exhibition skate.”_

 

The ice rink in Helsinki is darkened except for a single spot of light on the ice. Phichit skates into the light, wearing only black pants and a black shirt with a few dangling pieces of silver. A mournful French man's voice starts to sing,

 

_Ne me quitte pas, …Ne me quitte pas, …Ne me quitte pas, …Ne me quitte pas, …_

 

Christophe watches the live stream, and hears the song called _Do Not Leave Me_. He also recognizes the routine as one of Stéphane Lambiel's famous ones from a few years back. Phichit manages to skate a thank you to his coach for the year, and a plea aimed straight at Christophe's heart.


	10. Chapter 10

**April, Bangkok, Thailand**

 

Phichit is laying on his childhood bed, forlorn. He calls Yuuri.

“I miss him. I even miss all the annoying things he does. He always has to sit on one side of the couch, he insists on sleeping on the right side of the bed. He lets that cat get away with everything. And heaven forbid I make any noise in the morning. Oh and he'll bite my head off if I interrupt his writing.”

“Long-distance relationships are rough, I hated it when Victor and I were apart. But he told you he loved you, right? Even skated for you?” recalls Yuuri, trying to cheer him up.

“Yeah, but he's not like Victor, who seems to say _I love you_ all the time with little words and gestures. Christophe is mostly sweet when we're having sex, or having a fight.”

“What about you? Were you being …affectionate?” questions Yuuri.

“A little bit. I'm worried that I love him more than he loves me.”

 

**April 30th, Bangkok, Thailand**

 

Phichit and Christophe are visiting the Grand Palace, a majestic array of buildings with orange and green sloped roofs, topped by golden spires. Even early in the morning, they have to wait in a long line of tourists, and the heat is already oppressive.

“We won't go inside 'coz it's still used as a royal residence. But we'll enter the Wat Phra Kaew next door,” explains Phichit.

Christophe nods, but says nothing. He's barely said anything since he arrived yesterday.

After, they visit Wat Phra Kaew, they take off their shoes, and enter room of the Emerald Buddha. Christophe sees a green sitting statue ornately dressed in gold attire.

“It's not a temple because there are no monks, it's a royal chapel,” instructs Phichit.

Phichit kneels on his knees, putting his hand together in prayer. Christophe imitates him. Soon they are back on the noisy and crowded streets. Christophe almost gets hit, not realizing traffic stays on the left.

“I'm overwhelmed by all the people,” comments Christophe, preoccupied.

“If you don't like crowds, it's good that you missed Songkhran, the Water Festival a few weeks ago. People fill the streets, and shoot each other with water pistols and water balloons.”

They stop at a small restaurant, and eat lunch.

“I want to go to Champéry soon, what week would be good?” asks Phichit.

Christophe tilts his head, thinking.

“We'll talk about that soon,” evasively replies Christophe. They eat their noodles in silence.

Afterwards they go to a local market, bustling with fresh food, baked goods, flip-flops, live animals, and colorful flowers. Phichit recommends buying a basket of mangoes as a gift.

“Are we celebrating your birthday with your family?”

“Sort of. We don't celebrate birthdays much, but we'll have dinner together, and I'll thank my mother for giving birth to me.”

“I see. Are you out with them?”

“Oh. Not in an American way. My family knows I'm gay, but it's not openly talked about. I would prefer if we did not …show affection? I would find that awkward in front of them.”

“Phichit, would a straight couple publicly display their affection?”

“Oh no. No touching at all, not even a handshake.”

Christophe nods in an affirmation.

“Then I'm fine with it. Let's go.”

 

They are showed into a modern two story house, and remove their shoes.

“This is my father, Aram, my mother, On Choi, my sister, Mekhala, my brother, Thong Daeng, and my youngest brother, Thong Di.”

“ _Sawatdee-khrap_ , _Sawatdee-kha,_ and here is a gift of fruit,” offers Christophe, smoothly.

They all sit down around a table full of food, and the mother quickly offers a bite to eat. Christophe accepts a small brown dumpling, to Phichit's relief.

“How old are you, Christophe?” asks the mother.

“I'm 28.”

The mother nods approvingly. “You are older than our children.”

The evening progresses pleasantly, with the conversation a mixture of English and Thai. The two brothers push their chairs as close to Christophe as they can, pepper him with questions, and bump into him often. Christophe is surprised after being told there is no touching, how much everyone crowds into his space. Eventually, Phichit thanks his parents profusely, and takes Christophe out for a walk.

“I hope I didn't do anything too embarrassing,” comments Christophe.

“You were perfect. I'm taking you to Lumphini Park, it's the biggest park in the city.”

 

The sun has completely set, but due to all the city lights, it is easy to see their way through the grassy areas. Phichit and Christophe arrive near a clump of trees next to the lake. The park has been rather crowded, but suddenly they are alone, and the area feels comparatively quiet. Yuuri had made the point that showing affection was a two-way street. Trembling with emotion, Phichit looks up at Christophe,

“Something's happening to me. I'm falling more and more in love with you, and I give up. I'm yours. Completely. I've been so worried about commitment and the future, but no more. You are my one true love.”

Suddenly, hundreds of fireflies swarm in the trees around them, blinking off and on in a magical display. Pitchit looks around with awe.

“I don't know what's going on, we rarely get fireflies in the city, people usually take a boat tour upstream to see them,” exclaims Phichit. Christophe smiles, and murmurs,

“Mmm, let's return to my hotel. I need you in my arms, and naked.”

 

Once in the hotel room, they kiss hungrily. Christophe pushes Phichit against the wall, undoes Phichit's pants, plays with his brown cock while fingering his hole with the other.

“I want you now. Lube?” groans Christophe.

“Bag, near door,” pants Phichit. Christophe grabs a bottle, and quickly applies lubricant. He opens his pants, and lifts off the ground, “Okay?”

“Yes.”

Christophe pushes his erection in, til Phichit nods. Pinned against wall, Christophe has to do all the work thrusting. Phichit is just as turned on, desperately clings and cries,

“Yeah, take me, oh, oh, ah, ah, fuck me with that big cock, yeah, OH, OH, AH, AAAAAH!”

Christophe shudders, pulls Phichit off the wall, and on to the bed.

Still pent up, Christophe pulls off his shirt, and unbuttons Phichit's shirt. He removes Phichit's pants, and quickly unbuttons his own. He takes a brief moment to kiss the chest, then hurriedly removes his own. Finally both naked, Christophe impatiently strokes Phichit's cock, and his own together, once again coming quickly.

“You're rarely in a hurry,” comments Phichit.

“You've been gone for three weeks,” explains Christophe.

 

They lie there, quietly enjoying each other's bodies, when Christophe squeezes Phichit's torso, and sighs.

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but, I'm not sure I can handle a long-distance relationship.”

Phichit leaves the bed, and quickly puts on some clothes.

“What are you doing?” puzzles Christophe.

“I don't want to hear bad news naked.”

Christophe sits up, confused.

“What bad news?”

“Ever since you arrived in Bangkok, you've barely talked, you're preoccupied, and when I asked about visiting Champéry, you responded evasively. Maybe all that urgent sex was about saying goodbye.”

Christophe rubs the back of his head.

“Obviously I need to work on …communication? Or maybe your self-confidence. The reason I'm preoccupied is I'm considering moving to Bangkok, and renting the chalet.”

Phichit stands there speechless.

“I'm rather nervous about it, Thailand is intensely different from what I'm used to. On the other hand I would get some insight into your family and your culture… first, do you want to live with me?” inquires Christophe.

Phichit stammers, “Oh.Uh. My brain just went blank.”

“You're surprised. I assumed you knew how I felt,” says Christophe, pensively.

“How would I know?” asks Phichit confused.

“I gave you a key to my house, and introduced you to my parents, I skated for you, and now, I've traveled a great distance to meet your family.” Christophe gets up, takes out his laptop, and brings up a document. “Read this, maybe it will be more clear. I'm hot and sticky, I'm taking a shower.”

 

Phichit reads the title _Journal-Phichit_. He scans through the document, reading various passages:

 

_… For some reason, Yuuri's friend Phichit keeps calling me, he's cute, very verbal, sweet. ...can't believe I'm letting him read my pages, I never let anyone near my writings ...I don't think I've ever talked so much in my life, it feels like we've known each other forever. …I watched him skate today, he was breathtaking… I'm excited about being in the ice show, I miss performing on the ice… he's here in the village, but avoiding me…He is so easy to turn on, a few words is all it takes, it's funny that he thinks he's frigid, when he's the opposite. …It would be easy to make him fall for me, I better keep the tone friendly, not too romantic._

 

“What arrogance! You're not that gorgeous,” mutters Phichit.

 

… _He's totally into light sub/dom, I wasn't expecting him to be into both. …he has a wonderful radiant smile… I could write pages about his skin, the smooth velvety texture,… Is it ridiculous to say his eyes twinkle,… I think he's falling for me… He's getting under my skin, I pushed him away. I better figure out what I really want… I definitely have feelings for him, I don't know what to do…_

 

“Feelings? Wait, there's no date on any of these entries…,” exclaims Phichit, frustrated.

 

… _He's so kind to everyone,… We were both sitting on the couch together, reading, and I felt such contentment,…I don't think I've ever loved someone like this… I messed up, I must do something, I don't want to lose him…I can't tell him how I feel, he's going to want a complete commitment…... I've made a decision, I'm going to tell him I love him in Marseille, now I can be as romantic as I want…_

 

“Marseille! He was going to… Oh!” Phichit feels his jaw drop.

 

… _Yesterday in Marseille went perfectly, except now I'm realizing he wants a baby. I shouldn't tell him how I feel, I'm not ready for kids, or a family. Maybe I should break up with him ... Florian thinks I have erectile dysfunction, when in fact I'm just worried about seeing that hurt face, which I saw anyway even though I didn't do anything… Ironic that he's jealous, when I can't even bring myself to touch anyone else…_

 

“Erectile dysfunction? He's not been able to sleep around?”

 

… _Stupid, stupid, stupid. I ran away from the situation, and spent the weekend with Florian. Cowardly move. Nothing happened, but I need to get home and make sure Phichit's all right…_

 

“Yeah, stupid! ” repeats Phichit. “You'd better keep your hands off him.”

 

… _it feels odd not to sleep around, I must be crazy to only want one person. ...we made love so passionately, I felt it connected to my soul …I used to make fun of Victor for his dramatic utterances of love, but if he feels like this, I can't blame him…_

 

Phichit feels dizzy from emotion. He scrolls down towards the end of the journal, and notices something about a song. He realizes he never found out what the lyrics meant of Christophe's skate.

 

_...It's hard to say what's in my heart, maybe I should skate for him. There are so many love songs, but this one calls to me._

 

Je vais t'aimer I will love you  
Comme on ne t'a jamais aimée As you've never been loved   
Je vais t'aimer I will love you  
Plus loin que tes rêves ont imaginé Beyond your wildest dreams   
Je vais t'aimer, Je vais t'aimer I will love you, I will love you

Je vais t'aimer I will love you

Comme personne n'a osé t'aimer. As no one has dared to love you

Je vais t'aimer I will love you

Comme j'aurai tellement aimé être aimé. As I would have desperately wished to be loved

Je vais t'aimer. Je vais t'aimer. I will love you, I will love you

 

Phichit sits there stunned by the pages and pages of uncensored raw emotions. All these months, he had mostly witnessed the smooth and polished Christophe, who was always in control. It's hard to believe all this was underneath. But maybe he did know, maybe that's why it always felt so right.

 

Christophe comes out, damp and wearing a towel. He watches Phichit read, and waits a few minutes.

“What do you think?”

“You need to insert dates, and clarify whether you prefer my smile or my eyes.”

“What do you think of my feelings, not my writing,” clarifies Christophe, sitting next to him.

“I'm confused – when did you fall in love? What erectile dysfunction? Did you try to have sex with Florian? Why didn't you tell me how you felt?” grills Phichit, intensily watching for reactions.

Christophe leans back on a pillow, remembering.

“I tried to have sex with Florian after our one night stand, but I was unable to perform. Last fall, I realized I was falling in love, that's why I gave you a key to the chalet. Let's see. I tried on several occasions to pick up guys, before we were … exclusive. But I kept seeing your face, and it went nowhere. There's nothing medically wrong with me.”

“And your feelings?”

“I told myself I was protecting you, but my reactions to you scared me, I wasn't expecting…to love you so much.”

“If this is the state of our relationship, I don't want you to move to Bangkok,” declares Phichit.

“Because I'm lacking in communication skills?” asks Christophe, crestfallen.

“No. Because I want to go back home.”

“Home? Aren't you already,…oh, you mean … the chalet? clarifies Christophe, surprised.

Phichit nods. Christophe pulls him into his arms.

“I didn't insist you stay because you missed your family, and friends,” explains Christophe.

Phichit tentatively asks,

“I can... move in with you?”

“Yes.”

“I can live with you and train in Champéry…”

“Between Stéphane, Florian and I, we can find you a coach.”

Phichit stands up, and jumps up and down on the bed. Christophe quickly rescues the laptop and puts it on the dresser.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAh! Oh my! Unbelievable! I've got to call Yuuri, this is the best day EVER!” Phichit jumps up and down a few more times, then launches himself into Christophe's arms. Christophe stumbles a moment, but manages to catch him, but loses his towel.

“You never hide your emotions, do you?” remarks Christophe affectionately, placing him back on the bed. Phichit smiles, and unbuttons his clothes again.

 

“Make love to me again, but this time… slowly,” commands Phichit. And say stuff like in the journal.”

Christophe takes a deep breath, “I'll try,” he says, kissing Phichit's stomach.

“I missed you. The chalet seems empty without you.” Christophe grimaces, remembering something. “You're turning my little world upside down. The last few weeks, I've been helping at a skate camp for kids. One of them was an 8-year-old, on scholarship. She's bald, because of chemotherapy,…”

Phichit interrupts, “… and you want a percentage of net profit from the ice show to help with more scholarships?”

Christophe narrows his eyes.

“Yes, and start a nonprofit foundation. You finished my sentence. I love you …”

“And I adore you. The Chulametti Skate Foundation,” offers Phichit.

“No. The Phichit on Ice Foundation.”

“Close your eyes.” Phichit pushes him down on the bed, kisses his arms, gradually moving upwards towards the shoulder, then spends some time kissing his chest. Christophe moans.

“You've changed,” comments Phichit.

“How's that?” asks Christophe.

“Slowly kissing the arms didn't used to turn you on,” recalls Phichit.

“Being touched by you makes it special,” explains Christophe.“ _Chéri_ , would you order a bucket of ice?”

“You'd like to drink some ice water?”

“Yes. I want to suck the melting ice water from your body…” Christophe says suggestively. Phichit giggles,

“Good, you're still a sex god. My own sex god.”

 

After luxuriating in bed most of the morning, Phichit drags Christophe to the garment district. They pass stall after stall of colorful garments displayed all over the little walls and tables. One seller has a rainbow array of colorful shorts.

“Is this where you get your …interesting underpants?”

“Oh yes! There's this seamstress who makes seasonally inspired satin briefs. Look, these shorts are cute…” Phichit shops around for a moment, then takes them to another seamstress's shop.

“These women are amazing. They have made the hamster hats looked just as I have mentioned, the striped jackets are finished, and look at my multicolored candy costume, exquisite detail.”

“ _Mon choux_ , I can't believe you designed these outfits without any drugs involved. Even more strange, it makes me want to kiss you…” whispers Christophe in his ear.

“That's it! Maybe there should be some giant red lips like a belt around my middle,” enthuses Phichit.

Christophe starts laughing, and then looks at Phichit, and keeps laughing hysterically, till he collapses on the sidewalk.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**August, Ice Diamond Hotel , Las Vegas**

 

The Ice Diamond Hotel is located on the Las Vegas strip. The main building is a gleaming white tower with large glass accents meant to ressemble giant icicles. Phichit thanks and says goodbye to the manager in the lobby. The tall blonde woman hurries out to a taxi for another appointment. Phichit walks around, admiring his surroundings. The interior is huge, decorated in shades of white and glistening glass. Everything looks like it's made out of snow and ice. There's a small ice rink in the middle of the hotel and a snow play area, where snow falls from the ceiling every couple hours. Around the rink, there are several restaurants and gambling areas. A large ice rink is located at the back of the hotel. The new venue also features diamond jewelers, with one corner sculpted out of real ice, designed so that couples can propose with a diamond. He takes an elevator up to his room, and marvels at seeing posters for his ice show  _ Princes on Ice _ . He opens the door to his hotel room, and sees Christophe napping on the bed. He looks out at the city sparkling in the hot sun, nervous and excited about the first show tomorrow.

 

All the skaters involved in the ice show are getting dressed for the children's matinee.

“If you love me, you will not ask me to wear a hamster costume,” pleads Victor, still in his elegant street clothes, and holding 8-month-old Mariko.

“That's a trick, how about if you love _me_ , you will wear one? This is for my best friend,” argues Yuuri, already wearing a striped pink and blue jacket.

Phichit comes into the dressing room, brimming with excitement.

“The audience is full of kids!”

“Phichit is more excited than any of those kids,” comments Yuuri.

Phichit then goes around adjusting everyone's a striped color jackets, and hamster hats. Yuuri playfully takes Phichit's gumdrop hat, and puts it on his own head. Leo, Seung Gil, Guang Hong, are taking photos of themselves.

“This is all weird, cute and crazy,” pronounces Christophe, obviously enjoying the diverse reactions.

“Where's Victor?” wonders Phichit, looking around, and noticing that Victor has vanished.

Yuuri leaves the dressing area to find Victor. The rest shuffle out, preparing to perform on the ice. Plisetsky is left alone, and hearing a sound, opens the closet in the corner.

“Please, Yuratchka, I want to stay with Mariko-chan. Don't post the video – Yuuri would die of embarrassment,” he begs.

Plisetsky nods his head.

“Fine. You owe me. I'd join you in the closet, but Katsuki has done so much for me this year, that I have to do this. At least go watch the performance of this nauseating rainbow crap. The baby will like it.”

 

Some bouncy upbeat Thai music plays, and they all glide on to the ice, and perform a simple choreography. They skate around Victor's absence, and Phichit still seems happy with the result. As the show ends, Yuuri spots Victor watching and holding the baby,

“Victor, you disappointed me,” scolds Yuuri.Victor bows his head.

 

Later that evening, the opening performance goes well, with only a few last-minute costume alterations, and a few light and music cues delayed. After the performance, they all head out to celebrate, except Victor who is relegated to babysitting in the hotel room by Yuuri as punishment.

 

Phichit wakes up the next morning with a terrible hangover. He rubs his eyes, frowning, he looks over and sees Christophe laying next to him. Phichit reaches for his phone, checks the time, and notices the photo on the screen. He sees himself kneeling down, holding Christophe's hand.

“Oh no,” he mumbles, remembering through a drunken haze proposing to Christophe. And him only smiling, not answering. How humiliating. He stumbles into the shower, gets dressed, and heads downstairs to join the others for lunch.

 

At the table, the ice show skaters, except Christophe, are eating at the Fire and Ice Buffet. Phichit's eyes are puffy and red. Plisetsky and Altin look well rested, and Plisetsky is scarfing down his third plate. Yuuri keeps looking over at Phichit, concerned, while Victor feeds organic puréed peas to the baby. Leo and Guang Hong are cheerfully chatting. Guang Hong cluelessly asks Phichit,

“What did you do last night after leaving the Polar Penguin Pub?”

Yuuri kicks Guang Hong under the table, and volunteers,

“I relented, and Victor and I went for a gondola ride,” trying to deflect the question.

Plisetsky grumbles, “Too sappy for me, Altin at least proposed on a _motorcycle_ …,” then turns red, realizing what he just said. Otabek nods in agreement.

“Otabek proposed? Las Vegas sure is romantic…” exclaims Guang Hong. Yuuri kicks him again.

Guang Hong frowns at Yuuri, then continues, “Where's your ring?”

Otabek turns to watch Plisetsky, wondering what he'll say. Leo seems to realize this upsets Phichit, and kicks Guang Hong. Guang Hong whines,

“Will everyone stop kicking me!!”

Plisetsky shows off his gold bracelet, the one he received for his birthday.

“My bracelet is bigger and better than any ring,” challenges Plisetsky. Otabek smiles.

 

Everyone stares. Phichit looks about to cry, gets up and leaves, and Yuuri follows. Phichit looks around for somewhere to escape, and sees a restroom sign. He enters a stall and sobs. Yuuri soon follows, and waits outside the stall door.

“I'm pathetic,” wails Phichit, and blows his nose.

“You're talking to an expert on crying in the toilet,” reassures Yuuri. “Phichit, what's wrong?”

“After everyone left, I drunkenly proposed to Christophe … and he turned me down.”

“Oh! I'm so sorry.”

“I'm sorry too Yuuri, I let my envy of your happiness get in the way of our friendship,” hiccups Phichit.

“And I'm a bad friend for not noticing how you felt,” admits Yuuri.

“You're married and have a baby. All you talk about is being tired, and whether your baby has thrown up.”

They hear people enter the restroom.

“Phichit, are you ok?” cries Guang Hong. Leo follows.

Seung Gil's adds, “Phichit, if you're interested in seeing me again, call me.” Seung Gil goes to the sinks and washes his hands.

“That's it. I've had it,” snaps Leo. Guang Hong gapes in surprise, as he's never seen Leo angry. Leo walks straight up to Seung Gil,

“Phichit is with someone else and you need to respect that.” Leo's voice is not much louder than a whisper, but it's firm. Guang Hong stares. It's not exactly an ass kicking, but it's pretty impressive given Leo's passive temperament.

 

Meanwhile, Victor calls and wakes up Christophe. He puts his daughter in a carrier, grabs the diaper bag, and meets Christophe into a deserted corner of the Polar Penguin Pub.

“What happened?” demands Victor, then gives a quick smile and kiss to Mariko, to show her everything's all right.

“I was inebriated, but Phichit was so drunk – I had to carry him back to our room. He proposed to me, but I didn't accept – he was too drunk, Victor, and now he's upset…”

Viktor looks at him astonished, bouncing the baby.

“This is all your fault, anyway,” complains Christophe, collapsing on a chair and holding his head.

“How so?”

“You are Victor Nikiforov. Everyone looks up to you. You wear a shirt, everyone wants to wear it. Now you find true love, get married and have a baby. Everyone wants that now,” laments Christophe.

“What will you do now?” asks Victor.

“I'm going to apologize. I should go buy some flowers or something, no?”

 

“Crap! What is this?!” hollers Plisetsky, as he and Otabek enter the restroom.

“Guang Hong, leave him alone, for heavens sake,” Leo nags.

“Why is everyone in the bathroom! I need to pee! GET OUT!” hollers Plisetsky.

Otabek enters a stall, Leo and Guang Hong leave. Katsuki hovers, not knowing what to do. Plisetsky looks at Katsuki, and points to the exit. Yuuri shakes his head, a determined look on his face.

“Let him be for now,” declares Plisetsky. Yuuri looks up at Plisetsky, surprised,

“Phichit, call me if you need help,” Yuuri calls out, then leaves as Otabek washes up, and exits as well.

Phichit comes out, wiping his eyes.

“Thanks, Plisetsky. I'm just being stupid. Ever since Victor and Yuuri's wedding, I've dreamt of marriage …” sniffles Phichit.

“You're still obsessing about that weird shit at the wedding? Look, I don't know if he's your soulmate or whatever, but he seems to be really into you now,” concludes Plisetsky.

–… _Shall we skate!…_ Phichit answers his phone. “Okay, I'll meet you there.”

 

“It's pretty up here. Nice view of Las Vegas. Did you want to go swimming?” inquires Phichit, dispirited, barely glancing at the deserted pool or the rooftop view of the city.

“I'm glad there's shade, it's unbearably hot.” Christophe wipes his brow, sweating. “No, I brought you here to talk.”

“I'm sorry about the waterworks. Just my foolish boyish dreams. You're my first long-term relationship and I want it to continue. I'll be happy even if we never marry, it's not what really matters,” affirms Phichit.

Christophe nods, and continues,

“But about the baby… go on, say it,” says Christophe, imitating Phichit's way of talking.

“I'm planning to adopt, and I won't compromise on that,” Phichit declares firmly.

“First, you will be a great father. I will learn, hopefully. Second, gathering friends and family in order to say _I love you_ is not a silly dream.”

Christophe gets out a piece of paper, and reads in a stilted voice,

 

“You have changed me. You've made me believe in love. You've become my best friend, my favorite lover. I feel so lucky you chose me. I've never… felt this way before.”

 

Christophe offers a small black velvet box. Phichit opens it and finds a ring with tiny diamonds all around.

“It glitters in every direction, just like you.” Christophe gets down on one knee, picks up the the ring in his fingers, “Will you marry me?”

Phichit's face goes blank. Then he sits, and lies on the ground, unmoving. Christophe watches him for a few minutes, then finally says,

“Phichit? Are you ill? I'm sorry, I should have just accepted last night…” frets Christophe. He crouches down next to him, and hears Phichit ramble to himself.

“I'm hallucinating again.… No, dreaming. …I'm going to wake up in Bangkok, at home. …I just had a weird dream about Switzerland, a Swiss skater, an ice show, and …no one is that lucky…”

“You're awake. Please answer,” insists Christophe.

Phichit finally turns his head, and looks over at Christophe.

“ _ôh nâa rák jang_ …” then translates, “it's very cute. The ring.”

“I'm glad you like it,” says Christophe, sighing in relief.

“Florian hates me,” notes Phichit.

“He resents that I do everything for you, aside from that he thinks you're great.”

“Your mother hates me.”

“Just tell her about your adoption plans. And make sure to send a card on time for her birthday – you'll soon become her favorite.”

“You will hate me, for taking away your freedom.”

“I'm not free without you anymore. I love you too much.”

Phichit bites his lips, and whispers,

“Are you doing this because of my …horrible drunken proposal?”

“No. Ask Victor, I bought the ring two days ago…”

 

“ _ôh hŏh_.Yes. A thousand times yes!” Phichit stands up quickly on launches himself at Christophe, and he feels both of them falling, and then splashing into the water. They both surface quickly, and Phichit swims over and feels warm lips cover his own. And a familiar thrill zing through his body. They kiss for a while til Phichit suddenly realizes,

“The ring! It must have fallen in the pool. They both get out, and Phichit scans the water. Christophe strips to his briefs.

“I see something glittering near the 5 foot mark,” Phichit points out.

Christophe dives down, and reemerges a few moments later with the ring. Then with Phichit in sopping wet clothes, and Christophe, wet and wearing the tiniest of briefs, puts the ring on Phichit's finger.

“And I was worried my proposal wouldn't be memorable…” remarks Christophe, smiling.

“This is better than any of my fantasies,” adds Phichit, giggling.

 

The second evening's performance of the ice show is running like clockwork. Phichit, almost naked except for gold poofy shorts and a gold shoulder epaulets reminiscent of Thai architecture, is about to make his entrance on the ice to perform _The King and the Skater._ Christophe, wearing a racier version of his _Intoxicated_ costume with enlarged cutouts, is running his fingers on the edge of the gold shorts, 

“Stop that, you'll smudge my gold body paint,” whispers Phichit annoyed, then glances at Christophe's body, and grabs his butt appreciatively. Phichit lifts his chin with puckered lips, Christophe gives him a peck, and Phichit makes his entrance on the ice.

 

Guang Hong's jaw drops, and he starts poking Leo.

“Did you see that? Phichit and Christophe were flirting…”

Leo shrugs. “Those two flirt more than anyone we know.”

Guang Hong pokes him again. “But you're missing the point. They aren't usually so public about it.”

 

Victor and Yuuri perform an original choreography dressed in sparkly blue fluttery fabric. The music is sweet and lyrical and incorporates the sounds of waves and seagulls. They come off the ice together, and Yuuri dips Victor, and gives him a kiss.

 

Guang Hong stares at the couple, til Leo pokes him back.

“Our turn!” says Leo. Leo, Guang Hong and Seung Gil next perform a number dressed as Chinese warriors with swords that light up in the dark. Then Otabek, dressed as a Kazakh warrior, in a fur and leather coat with a very deep V-neck exposing much of his torso, skates to a battle hymn. Plisetsky waits his turn, wearing a tiger striped shirt and black leather pants. As Otabek steps off the ice, and puts on his skate guards, Plisetsky lets his hand wander down the point of the V. Otabek stares at him, grabs his ass, with a daring look in his eyes. Plisetsky gives him a quick kiss, then glides onto the ice.

 

Guang Hong shakes his head, disbelievingly. He whispers to Leo,

“It seems like everyone here is gay ...and all have spring fever!”

Leo shakes his head,

“You're exaggerating. You're not gay, right? And Seung Gil and I acting perfectly normal.”

Seung Gil comes behind him, and asks,

“Leo, are you dating anyone?”

“No, not right now,” replies Leo.

Seung Gil dips him, and give him a searing kiss.

“Call me,” says Seung Gil, and leaves to get changed. Leo leans against the wall, completely weak kneed.

“Nevermind what I said, you're right, someone has dosed us all with an aphrodisiac…” squeaks Leo.

 

Plisetsky goes out, and performs _I'm Sexy And I Know It_. Halfway through the choreography, he rips off his shirt and throws it into the audience. Then almost at the end, he rips off his Velcro pants, revealing tiger striped underwear, courtesy of _Kelvin Climbs_ underwear. As Plisetsky leaves the ice, he yells to Phichit,

“That bonus for stripping better be huge, or you're in trouble, Chulanont!”

Phichit grins,

“Your bonus is huge, Plisetsky!” And then he turns and whispers to Christophe, “ _ Kelvin Climbs _ is giving us _ all _ a huge bonus...” 

 

Finally, Yuuri skates out in his blue prince costume to the music of  _ Stammi vicino.  _ Victor soon joins him on the ice in his pink prince costume, and they skate a duet. Guang Hong, Leo and Seung Gil then join them wearing red, green, and yellow versions of Victor's prince costume. Then Phichit and Christophe joins them wearing white and purple prince costumes, and finally Otabek and Plisetsky take to the ice in black and orange carrying roses. They all skate in a circle, grab a flower, face the audience, and glide on one knee towards the audience offering a red rose. The music ends, and each man throws flower into the audience. Loud applause resounds throughout the ice rink.

Plisetsky mumbles, ”Stupidest corny ending ever.”

However Phichit is beaming with so much happiness, that Plisetsky can't help smiling back at him. Phichit grins at Christophe, who picks him up and spins him around. Victor and Yuuri join hands, smiling, while Otabek places a hand on Yuri's shoulder. Guang Hong pats Leo on the back, and Leo reaches over and awkwardly pats Seung Gil. Suddenly they all feel another spark of joy lift their hearts, a warm magical glow, leaving them even more giddy and full of love.

 

**Author's Note:**

> It is completely bizarre to spend so many hours writing a story, only to send it into the online void. When I get a response from a reader, I feel like a UFO enthusiast who has gotten alien contact. I really appreciate every single kudo and comment. Thank you!
> 
> Je vais t'aimer by Michel Sardou, my translation.  
> Most of the skating routines in this story are based on actual skating routines:  
> Phichit's SP is based on SP Love is blindness by Jason Brown SP (2015).  
> Phichit's SP is based on SP Emerald Tiger by Michael Christian Martinez (2017).  
> Phichit's FP is based on FP Riverdance by Jason Brown FP (2014).  
> Phichit's exhibition skate is copying Stéphane Lambiel's exhibition skate at the European championship(2010). Ne me quitte pas sung by Jacques Brel.


End file.
